This Changes Everything
by fender24
Summary: This is how I wish "Moving On"-7x23 would have ended and how I'd like S8 to begin. House tries to slowly find his way back into the lives of Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own [H]ouse, MD. If I did, well...things would be different.**

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><p>"<em>If Greg House steps foot in my hospital again, comes anywhere near me, I want him thrown in jail."<em>

Julia walked to the edge of the drive way and sat down after the police officer had finished questioning her sister, Lisa Cuddy.

"Lise, you okay?" She asked, placing a hand on her sister's back.

Cuddy's tears began to stream down her face again, this time even heavier than before. "He drove through my house, Julia. My house!"

Julia hugged her sister and tried to slow down her sobs, "I know, I know. But they'll find him," She assured, motioning to the cluster of policemen standing off the to side, plotting their plan to find Gregory House. "They won't let this go until they have House behind bars."

Somehow, that didn't make Cuddy feel any better. Maybe it was the shock, or the hurt...whatever it was, it was keeping her from believing that this had actually happened. Gregory House...the man she loved...he had really done this. There was nothing to suggest otherwise. The gaping hole in her home served as all the proof she needed.

She wanted him to pay. She didn't want him anywhere near her or her daughter...not even her hospital.

And so lay the end of her personal relationship with House...she didn't want it to be like this, not ever. Just in the hallway, she'd apologized, and he had admitted that his pain wasn't her fault...she took that as a good thing, a sign that they could go back to being co-workers...that had been her clearance to move on...although, as she sat on the pavement and really thought about it all, could she ever really move on from House? She tried that once and failed miserably.

Her eyes rolled at the thought and she pulled away from Julia, finally standing up. Julia clambered to her feet and followed her sister as she made her way back into her damaged house.

"Lise, do you need a place to stay? You and Rachel are always welcome at my house."

Cuddy shook her head, barely paying attention to her sister, "No, we'll be fine."

"Lisa...there's a giant hole in your living room...are you sure?"

Irritated, Cuddy lashed out, "Damnit, I told you, we'll be fine. I appreciate the offer, but no thank you." Every syllable was distinctly pronounced and poisoned with a plethora of emotions: rage, guilt, hopelessness, genuine sadness, and a slight twinge of a twisted form of love.

Why that certain emotion even existed in regards to House anymore, Lisa Cuddy would never know. It almost pissed her off even more to think that she could think of House in that light still. Certainly, that light was tarnished and very dim, but at this point in her life, she was positive that nothing could just erase twenty years of him over night.

Jerry joined Julia and Cuddy in the remains of her living room. He had stuck around, despite the personal issues in Cuddy's life that had appeared during dinner.

"Lisa, can I get you anything?" He asked as sweetly as he could manage.

Sympathy was not what she wanted right now. Sickened instantly, she whirled around to face him, her face stricken with tears, "No. Jerry, listen. You're a sweet guy, and my sister wants the both of us to be happy...but this won't work."

Not expecting her response to be anything along those lines, Jerry slumped slightly, "Why not?"

Cuddy glared at Julia then returned her gaze to Jerry, "It just...won't. Take my word for it."

Julia's jaw dropped, "This...this doesn't have anything to do with..._House_...does it?"

"Jules...the man drove through my house. Any feelings I had left for him were destroyed along with my living room. It's okay, you can rest easy tonight," Her reply came so sarcastically that it was almost as if House himself had delivered it. The fact that it was a lie was even more like House.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm a little bitchy this evening, but I have a really good excuse," She admitted, sadly.

Julia's face softened, "It's okay, Lise. I understand."

Jerry sighed, not convinced, "Don't make me suffer because of him. Dinner was going great."

Cuddy scowled, "One day, Julia, you'll learn to stay out of my personal life. While I appreciate the gesture, promise me you won't do this again. Jerry, no. I'm sorry. It's better if you don't get involved with me. Who knows? If I piss you off, you might blow up my refrigerator, or burn my grass. I'm not taking any chances any time soon."

Jerry frowned, but nodded, muttering, "When you said you had personal issues in your life, you weren't kidding."

"Yes, I'm well aware of my screwed up personal life, thank you for taking the time to notice...as proved by the hole in my living room, or lack thereof," Though her remark was overly catty and sarcastic, Cuddy managed to squeeze it out with a small smile.

"I should go," Jerry concluded. He was clearly disappointed, but decided that leaving was in his best interest.

"Thanks for coming, Jerry," Cuddy said, giving a small wave.

After Jerry left, Cuddy turned to Julia, who was standing with her arms folded tightly across her chest, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Jules...he's just not my type at all," Cuddy admitted, shrugging. "You can't force these things."

Julia rolled her eyes, "He's not House. That's what you mean to say."

Cuddy shook her head and pointed at her demolished living room, "Do you not see that?"

"It's not about the house, Lisa."

"You're right. It's about everything. He's hurt me so many times, and granted I've hurt him too. But this...this was the final straw."

Julia shook her head, "I'll believe it when I see it. Look, I'm not here to argue, so if there isn't anything you need me to do, I'm going home."

"Thanks for your help, Julia. I really do appreciate it."

She nodded, hugged Cuddy, then left.

Finally alone, Lisa Cuddy turned to observe the damage done to her home. A few more tears dripped from her eyes, but she wasn't crying because of the hole in her living room. Through all the rage and hatred, this was the end of a very long friendship with the most incredible man she had ever known.

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><p><em>Reviews are very much appreciated :D I'll try to post updates on a regular basis!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! I really appreciate it. I'm glad you like the story so far. I'm still not quite sure where I'm taking it, but I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks again! 3**

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><p>She barely slept at all that night. How could she? Tonight she was highly vulnerable, and she was afraid. House was missing, but she knew he wasn't far away. Thankfully, the policemen had hung tarp where the hole in her house was, but that wasn't much protection.<p>

Cuddy felt herself regretting her decision not to go with Julia, but a part of her remained at ease. Rachel was with Arlene for a few days. At least she wouldn't have to worry about the safety of her daughter.

Her eyes slowly drifted to the left side of the bed. Memories shot through her like never before. Even after the break up, seeing the spot where he used to sleep hadn't stung her this bad. She had finally realized that she had lost him, probably forever. It was more than she could take.

As she stared longingly at the other side of the bed, she remembered reaching over for him one morning and he hadn't been there. Curiously, she'd gotten out of the bed, and stretched. Suddenly, he had grabbed her leg as she was mid stretch. Cuddy wanted to smile at the memory, but she couldn't. All she could think about was how quickly everything had happened. Her decision to break up with him, the crash...it all happened so fast without much consideration at all. If only she could go back in time...the things she would have done differently. Jerry would have never even entered her house. Her eyes involuntarily rolled at the thought. He was creepy from the beginning, and she scolded herself for not knowing better.

That morning, her stiff muscles ached as she rolled out of her bed. Her eyes were heavy and her face was stained from her tears. She didn't even bother looking in a mirror, afraid of the person she would find staring back at her. Not only was she running on about two hours of sleep, but she was in the worst emotional pain imaginable.

Getting ready for work this morning was a long, painful process, but she pushed through, applying her make up like a pro and sliding into her tight-fitting gray pencil skirt, white dress shirt, and black suit top easily. When she went to brush her hair, her fingers curled around the newly returned hair brush and she sighed. Her life would never go back to normal, and she was foolish to think that it ever could.

Frustrated, Cuddy threw the hair brush onto the floor in her room and picked up the one she had been using while the other one was missing. She didn't want that brush near her, not after the way she'd gotten it back the previous day.

She began to ask herself why she was even going into work this morning. Though she would have preferred to sleep in and try to make sense of it all, she knew that she would be able to keep the entire incident off her mind if she went to work. She would be kept busy all day, and for once, she welcomed that.

She was dressed to perfection, but her eyes told the real story. She was shattered, hurt, and horribly conflicted. While she told the cop that she didn't want House any where near her, part of her wanted to see him again. Mainly, she wanted him to know how badly he'd screwed up. If she ever got the chance, she fully intended to tell him exactly what was on her mind.

As she walked through her house, she passed the living room and her heart burned. She couldn't look at the damage; it was overwhelming. _Damn you, House._ It was all she could think right now.

Her day at work was uneventful. She worked on a few spreadsheets of the hospital's monthly growth rate, ate her lunch in silence, and hoped to hell that Wilson wouldn't come into her office raving about the day before.

Her luck was too rotten, though, and he managed to make his appearance.

"Are you okay?" He asked her. Given the frame of mind she was in, she knew that it wouldn't take much to set her off right now.

Wilson was a great friend though, so she bit her tongue, "Not...not really. No. Didn't sleep much last night. What about you? How's your arm?"

He looked down at the cast on his arm, "It's the least of my worries...I hate to even ask...have you heard from him?"

House. Had she heard from House? Only in her nightmares. "No, I haven't. Did the cops find him yet?"

He shook his head, "No. They don't know where he is. They've looked everywhere, but he can't hide forever...are you pressing charges?"

Cuddy shrugged, "I'll decide that when they find him." Originally, she had planned to have charges filed against him, but she didn't know if that was really what she wanted. She had always been the one to get House out of trouble, not to throw him into more of it.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did...I'm sorry about your living room. If there's anything I can to do to help-"

"Wilson," She interrupted. "Thank you. I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. I'm calling construction this afternoon to see what they can do."

"Alright. Well, if you change your mind...you know where I am."

The clock finally let her know that it was time to leave the hospital. The entire day had come and gone in a blur, and she prayed that she would be able to salvage at least a few hours of sleep tonight.

As she got into the driver's side of her Lexus, her phone rang. It was her mother.

"Mom, hi. How's Rachel?" She asked, worried.

"She's fine, Lisa. She misses you."

Cuddy's heart sank, "Oh God, Mom. I miss her too. I just don't think she should be at my house right now, not with everything that happened."

Arlene sighed, "I don't disagree. Damn, Lisa...you sure can pick them."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, because I intentionally went into the relationship knowing he would wreck my house. It was all part of my master plan; I can't believe you didn't see it coming."

"Cut the sarcasm, we both know it doesn't do you any good. This is what happens when you break people's hearts. Could you do me, and the local construction company a favor and finally settle down? You can't go on like this," Arlene lectured. "Julia informed me you turned her friend down last night."

Cuddy rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes, sighing deeply, "Yes, I did."

"Lisa...the sooner you accept that a perfect man is impossible to find, the sooner your life will be happier."

"It shouldn't be this hard, Mom...and don't even get me started on Jerry. He was creepy as hell; Julia should have known better."

Arlene chuckled, "Maybe you shouldn't be so picky then. Once you realize that no one is perfect, it gets a lot easier. Look, I've got to go put your daughter to bed. Just think about what I said...you'll be less miserable if you finally decide to take my advice that you've been ignoring your entire life."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews!**

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><p>The next few weeks were problematic. Now that House had been banished from walking through the doors of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Cuddy had to deal with the loss of an employee. She appointed Foreman as the new head of the diagnostic department for the time being. He had always been very responsible, and seemed to have the least amount of personal issues going on in his life at the moment.<p>

Away from the hospital, construction men had started repairing her house, and Rachel was back at home with her. House was still missing.

She was slowly beginning to pick up the pieces of her life. For a while, she didn't know where to even begin, but she knew that it was imperative that she find her way, if not for her sake, then for the sake of her three year old daughter. Rachel was everything to her, and she had to remain strong for her. It was a challenge, especially when Rachel mentioned House. She missed him. How could Cuddy ever explain that House wouldn't ever be back around? That he didn't need to exist in their lives? How could she convince herself of that? It was damn near impossible. For twenty years, he had occupied her life in one way or another. Despite everything he had ever done to her, she just wanted to know where he was, what he was doing.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

For the past few weeks, Gregory House had been living like a fugitive on the run. He hadn't been back to his apartment, except briefly just to pick up his motorcycle. He had convinced Thirteen to let him stay at her place for a few nights. Being former jail bait herself, she was easily swayed and allowed him to stay, but only for a very limited time.

"You drove your car through her house?" She asked him once, the only time she ever brought it up.

"Yes," Was his simple answer.

"Might I ask why?"

House shrugged, popped two Vicodin pills, and sat down on her couch, "It was just my way of letting her know that the man in there was totally not her type, and I didn't approve of him. If she wanted to move on, she could have picked someone less like Lucas."

"This is about another man?" Thirteen rolled her eyes. "House, you've got to let this go. You can't keep moping about this over and over. It'll kill you."

"I think you're missing the part where I rammed my car into her house- and no, that wasn't a metaphor; I really did it in the sexual sense and literal sense," He paused, chuckling. Then, he sighed, growing serious. "There's nothing to let go of anymore. As far as she's concerned, any relationship, even our work relationship...well, it's just over, and begging for redemption is not on my agenda...being merciful isn't on hers. I had her on my mind, I got her off. What's done is done."

"Regardless of what's been done...you can't keep living like this, and you're sure as hell not bringing me down with you," Thirteen warned. "The cops have been looking for you for weeks. I'll even admit you're a lucky bastard for staying in the clear for this long, but sooner or later, they will find you."

"Speaking from experience, Dr. Kevorkian?"

That comment struck her hard. "You're an ass, House. I helped my brother. I don't know why you did what you did; this is too much, even for you. You...you drove through a house...our criminal records and intentions are slightly different. Now, I'm letting you stay here for a few days, but after those days are up, I want you out of here."

He accepted Thirteen's warning and left as soon as three days were up. Now he didn't know where he could possible go next. He couldn't go to Wilson. He was almost positive that Wilson hated his guts as well. That thought irked him. House had always been able to count on Wilson, but not now.

Truth be told, House knew that he had screwed up big time. He didn't feel too great about what he had done now that it had fully sunken in. He had crashed his car into his ex-girlfriend's house, scaring her, and he could have even killed her. Never had he once wanted to be violent towards Cuddy. Just...just _seeing_ the new man...he couldn't handle it.

Still, there were so many things left unsaid. His inability to open up was to be blamed mostly for this. He couldn't even stand to think about what he had done. Even his normally selfish self couldn't accept it. This was the reality he had created for himself. It was far from anything he had ever wanted. He needed Cuddy in his life, and now she never would be ever again. Even Wilson was gone...he had nothing. No one.

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><p><em>Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the reviews! By the way, just a little side note: I was listening to "What If" by Coldplay today while writing, and it reminded me so much of House and Cuddy. If you all have time, you should give it a listen. It's a great song!**

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><p>"Momma!" screamed a scared Rachel as she ran into Cuddy's room one night. "I don't like being alone when it's thundering outside."<p>

Cuddy jolted from the rarity of peaceful sleep and her eyes shot to her daughter. "It's okay, honey, come here."

Rachel jumped into the bed and nuzzled into Cuddy's side. Cuddy pulled the covers over both of them and ran her fingers through her daughter's smooth brown hair.

"You're okay," She whispered. "Momma's here. Try to go back to sleep, okay?"

"Okay," The little girl agreed as she burrowed deep within the covers.

Her attempt at sleep didn't last long. Rachel turned and looked at the left side of the bed. It was so empty, so...dead. It disturbed the little girl. She didn't like the way things were now.

"Momma...is Hows ever coming back?" She crawled out of her mother's arms and sat in front of the pillow where House used to lay his head down at night. She looked longingly at the pillow before falling onto it and snuggling with it.

Cuddy's heart split in half. A stray tear fell down her cheek and after a few seconds of staring blankly at the sight, she noticed the look on Rachel's face. The little girl demanded an answer.

"No," She said, regaining her composure. One hand was brought to her face, wiping away the rapidly accumulating tears. "No, honey, House isn't coming back."

"But why? You don't love him anymore?"

"What?" She was stunned at her daughter's accusation. Cuddy didn't know where her daughter's question had even come from.

"You used to say you loved him. I heard you. When he left after eating with us...you said you loved him. You always say that to me, so I guessed it must be pretty special if you say you love him too," She was genuinely curious, and she wouldn't stop pressing her mother until she got an answer. Rachel Cuddy was winning the fight against the Dean of Medicine...that was quite a feat for a three year old.

Rachel was right. Any time House came over for dinner but didn't plan on staying the night, Cuddy would always walk him to the door after cleaning up the kitchen, give him a good night kiss, and tell him that she loved him, that she'd see him at work in the morning. How painful it was to recall those sweet memories of when it truly felt like she had a family...a screwed up one, but a real family to call her own.

With Lucas, she'd been promised security. He was there to spend time with Rachel, he was good at his job, and he was a family man...a perfect representation of what Cuddy thought she needed. As time passed; however, she soon realized that while Lucas was someone she needed, House was the man she wanted. She didn't know why it was House, but it always had been. For twenty years, Lisa Cuddy wanted him all to herself.

Granted, in the beginning she had her doubts. Would he be a good father figure to Rachel, would he come through when she needed him to? Maybe he wasn't always the best family man, but he was _her_ family man, and he tried his hardest because he loved her.

She felt herself break apart memory by memory when she reflected how it all ended.

Navigating away from the thoughts of the life she once knew, Cuddy turned to her daughter and tried to assure her, "Rachel, it's better this way, I promise. Now go to sleep."

"No," She said, defiantly. "I miss Hows."

Cuddy was shocked. Never had she realized how much the break up affected her daughter. Rachel had only mentioned it once before, but now she was out for answers, real answers. Cuddy didn't know if she could give her little girl those real answers yet.

"I don't know where House is, honey. No one does...but he won't be back here. He's...not a good person," She hated lying to her daughter because deep down Lisa Cuddy knew that House was a good person. He just lost his way sometimes.

Rachel was not impressed. "Hows is a good person, he's just a bloody scallywag sometimes. When you find him, will you tell him I miss him?"

_That damn cartoon..._ Cuddy sighed, "If I see him, I'll tell him you miss him if you promise to go to sleep now." She held out her pinky, "Pinky promise." Pinky promises were absolutely legitimate between this mother and daughter. If a pinky promise was broken in this house, there would be hell to pay.

Rachel wrapped her little pinky around her mother's for a few seconds then turned over. Within minutes, she was sound asleep.

Cuddy lay awake for hours.

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><p><em>Thank you all again for reading, and as always, reviews are very much appreciated! :D<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for the reviews. I can assure you that House and Cuddy will be reunited soon enough. I finished writing that scene today. :D **

**Also, I'm not very medicine savvy, so if I got some facts about CRPS wrong in this update, I'm very sorry.**

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><p>Gregory House stood on the side of the road during the afternoon hours. His limp was worse than ever and he hadn't shaved in days. He had also run out of Vicodin, which put him on edge even more. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this act up. Some way or another he had gotten lucky, and the cops hadn't found him yet. Certainly, they now assumed that he had fled New Jersey.<p>

Jail wasn't looking too bad at the moment, considering he'd be given clean clothes and daily meals there. However, he wouldn't give up and turn himself in; he was still planning his course of action. In one way or another, he planned to confront both Cuddy and Wilson, but he wanted to give them time to cool off before he even tried to get them to listen to him.

"Hey, you got a light?" A random voice came from his left, interrupting his thoughts.

House turned to look at the man sitting on the sidewalk. He appeared to be in his early forties. His clothes were shabby and his gray hair was past shoulder length. His beard stretched from his chin to his sternum. His pale hands were nearly black from dirt. The man was clearly homeless, and he looked as if he was in pain.

"Haven't you ever heard that smoking is bad?" House remarked cynically.

"Look, man, all I'm asking for is a light. Is that too much to ask for?"

"I just told you that smoking was bad," House said. "Why do you still think I would have a lighter or a cigarette?"

"Just thought I'd ask..." Suddenly the man groaned and gripped his right foot.

"You alright?" House asked, curiously.

"No...I cut my foot on glass a while back and it didn't heal properly, I guess. It's only gotten worse."

"I wonder why," House mumbled to himself, again noting how dirty the man was.

The man manage to pull off his shoe after a series of intense groans and painful shouts.

What House saw instantly intrigued him.

The man's foot was highly swollen and was stained with blotches of red and purple. The swelling appeared to be spreading to the man's leg. House's brain immediately went to work with a diagnosis.

"Hmm, looks like cutaneous edema spreading over your foot, discoloration, a wound that got worse instead of better..." He paused and looked the man over once more. "How long has it been since you've had a hair cut?"

"Why does it matter?" The man retorted.

"Because I want to be a stylist. Who the hell cares why it matters? Just answer the question."

"The last time I had a hair cut was a few months ago. It was cut pretty short."

House shook his head, "That's not nearly a long enough time span for your hair to grow back to this length so quickly, unless something was speeding up the growth...the pain in your foot, is it burning?"

He nodded, "Burns like hell."

"Does the skin on your foot experience a lot of temperature changes?"

The man shrugged, eyeing his swollen foot, "Yeah. My muscles spasm too."

"How long ago did you cut your foot?"

"About three months ago, why?"

"You need to get to a hospital. If you have what I think you have...you could experience muscle atrophy in your foot, and it'll eventually have to be amputated," House explained. "It could also spread to the rest of your leg if you don't get it taken care of soon."

"How you do know all this?"

"I'm a doctor...well, I used to be a doctor..." House answered, sadly.

"Why aren't you a doctor anymore?"

"Well," he began. "I made a really stupid mistake and I got banished from the only hospital that would ever hire me. So, now I'm on the run, living the American dream," He finished sarcastically.

"...well what do you think I have?" He asked, concerned.

"I think you have CRPS, Complex regional pain syndrome."

He shook his head and looked down at his mutilated foot, "And I could lose my foot over this?"

House nodded, confirming the severity of the situation. "There isn't a cure for CRPS, but there is treatment that could save your foot. If it is CRPS, we caught it early, so you still have a chance at having normal movement in your foot if you're treated immediately."

"Doc, I can't just go to a hospital...there's no way I can pay a medical bill. Hell, look at me. I don't even have a house. I have nothing."

House frowned, noticing the parallels between him and the man. He, too, had nothing. He didn't know why the man was homeless, but he figured that it was by some unfortunate event. House concluded that this man probably hadn't brought it upon himself like he had. House had done this to himself. The man didn't deserve the pain he was in, and House was going to do everything in his power to make sure he was taken care of.

"Well, it's worth a try. Listen, I want you to go to Princeton-Plainsboro, alright? When you get there, I want you to go to the front desk and ask for Doctor Lisa Cuddy. Tell her that Gregory House sent you. If she doesn't call the cops then she'll take care of you...if she calls the cops, well, you'll still be taken care of, I suppose...win-win situation, right?" He knew that relying on Cuddy would work because it was for the good of the patient. Even Cuddy couldn't shame him for wanting to help someone, not even after all they had been through.

"Why would she call the cops?" The man asked, curiously.

House sighed, "I drove through her house."

"You what?"

"You heard me," He confirmed, frustrated with himself.

"Why would you do something like that?"

"She's an ex-girlfriend...and I killed my chance at redemption."

"That's a pretty stupid reason," The man said, shaking his head at House.

"We all do stupid things," House reasoned. "I'm sure you have your fair share of things you regret."

"This isn't about me," The man retorted. "And you don't feel bad about it? You're not even going to try to fix it?"

"Well of course I want to fix it," House said. "I'm not a complete ass. I don't know what to do though...I just know that I have to do something. But whatever that something is comes after you get treatment." House sighed once and struggled to help the man to his feet. He offered him his cane, "I can get by for a while without my cane. I've got another one back at my apartment...right now, you need it more than I do."

And so began the process of House finding a way back into Lisa Cuddy's life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone. Sorry, this update is a little short! But thanks again for reading, I really appreciate it. :D**

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><p>The man limped slowly through the doors of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. His haggard appearance caught the eyes of everyone in the lobby. He looked around the hospital desperately until he finally made it to the front desk. The man nearly fell onto the counter, House's cane slapping the cool floor with a loud crash.<p>

"I...I need some help," He said breathlessly.

The nurse behind the counter looked at him and gasped, "What's going on?"

"I..." He was struggling to get his breathing under control now. "I need...to see Lisa...Lisa Cuddy."

Without asking any questions, the nurse grabbed the phone in front of her and called Cuddy. Within only a few seconds, the Dean of Medicine emerged, walking briskly in her five inch heels towards the desk. Her face was stricken with shock when she saw the man.

Slowing to a stop before the desk, she addressed the man, "Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine...You called for me? What seems to be the problem?"

"A man sent me here. He said he thinks I have CRPS, and that you could help me."

"Who sent you?" She demanded, bending her knees slightly in order to get a better look at him.

He struggled, not sure if he wanted to put House in danger...but he had told the man to tell Cuddy who had sent him. If House didn't want Cuddy to know, he wouldn't have told the man his name to begin with.

"His name is Gregory House."

She had to grab the desk in order not to lose her balance. "I'm s-sorry," She stammered. "Did you say Gregory House?"

The man nodded.

"Where the _hell _is he? I swear to God," She started, flashing a horribly angered glare towards the nurse. The nurse simply nodded and offered a sad glance in Cuddy's direction.

He shrugged, "I don't know. He left as soon as he gave me his diagnosis." He stared at the fuming Dean and realized that she wasn't satisfied with his answer. "I swear, Dr. Cuddy, I don't know where he was going. He just gave me his cane and left. Please...just...just help me. It hurts."

Cuddy nodded and regained her composure, "Right, please forgive me; Dr. House is just a former employee of mine...on a lighter note, we have a fine diagnostic team that Dr. House used to be the head of...they'll take good care of you."

She instructed the nurse to contact Foreman and see to it that the team began to treat the man as soon as possible.

Once the man had limped away with the nurse at his heels, Cuddy slumped against the counter, staring down at House's cane. House hadn't fled New Jersey after all. She felt like alerting the local authorities that they were wrong about him fleeing, but she decided against it; House had only told the man to go to her hospital because medicine was involved. She reasoned that he hadn't been trying to come back into Cuddy's life for a personal relationship, or trying to get his job back...he was doing it for the good of the patient, and that was good enough for her.


	7. Chapter 7

A few days had passed and House hadn't heard anything from the homeless man, but assumed that his old team was taking good care of him. CRPS didn't have a cure, but House believed that he had caught it in time for a successful treatment to be given to the man.

He had since gone back to his apartment to pick up another cane, to shave, to shower, and to grab a piece of paper, a pen, and his checkbook.

His motorcycle slowed to a stop outside a very familiar house. He pulled off his helmet and surveyed the damage done to the living room of Cuddy's house. The sight made him want to throw up. He had done this all on his own. There was no one else to blame this time.

Setting his helmet down on the back of his motorcycle, House pulled out his checkbook and pen and wrote a check to Lisa Cuddy for fifteen thousand dollars. He wasn't sure if that would be enough to cover the damage done, but it would certainly help. After signing his signature at the bottom of the check, he pulled out a piece of paper that appeared to be a note, wrapped the check inside of it, and proceeded to limp to her doorstep.

Nervously, House knocked on her door, thanking the heavens that Cuddy was still at work.

Within a few seconds, Marina, the babysitter, answered the door with Rachel in her arms. Marina stumbled back when she saw him and mumbled something in another language under her breath.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked, her brow furrowing.

"Hows!" Rachel screamed happily, her welcome heavily contrasting with the greeting he'd received from Marina.

For the time being, House ignored Rachel and explained himself to Marina, "I just came by to drop something off. Could you give it to Lisa when she gets home?"

"Now why would I do that?"

House shrugged, "I don't know, because I asked nicely? Because it's the right thing to do? Because you know that if you don't take the easy road and give it to her yourself, then I'm going to take the hard road and stupidly give it to her myself. Because-"

"Alright, alright. Damn, you're annoying."

"Sorry, I'll try to be less annoying in the future," He retorted, sarcastically.

He held out the note and Marina cautiously took it.

"Hows, I miss you! Momma said you were a bad person and you wouldn't come back, but I knew you would," Rachel exclaimed, reaching out for House.

House frowned at Rachel, digesting what Cuddy had told her daughter. She really did think he was a terrible person, but he didn't blame her. After all, look at what he had done: a most unforgivable deed. "I miss you too, kiddo. And your mom is right; I deserve to walk the plank."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

The homeless man that House had diagnosed a few days before was named Bradley Martin. He was about forty-three years old and had been living on the streets for nearly two years. At one time, he had been a very successful business owner, but after committing numerous crimes, he lost everything.

Luckily, House had caught his case of CRPS early enough for treatment. With time, the team concluded that his disorder would go into remission, but he was warned that it would never fully go away, as there is no cure for CRPS.

When she wasn't busy handling pharmacy reps or attending board meetings, Cuddy had been watching over Bradley's case, curious to see if House's diagnosis had been correct. She wasn't surprised that he had been right in the first place; House was a brilliant man, even if he did absolutely stupid things sometimes.

"Momma!" Rachel squealed as her mother walked in after work. She tossed her purse onto the couch and met Rachel and Marina in the kitchen.

"How was your day today?" She asked sweetly. She slipped Marina her payment then hugged Rachel tightly.

"I saw Hows today!"

Cuddy froze, then whirled to face the nanny. "_What?_" The question was directed at the babysitter rather than Rachel.

She shrugged slowly, "He came by."

"You let _him_ in my _house_?" Cuddy was furious.

"No...he knocked on the door and we answered it. He gave me something to give to you, then left," she explained, hoping to calm the now fuming Dean.

Cuddy was horrified at the thought of him being near her home and daughter. What could he possibly want? He had already successfully pushed her over the edge for what seemed to be the final time. There was nothing left to say.

"What did he want?" She demanded.

The babysitter pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Cuddy, then left without another word.

Cuddy unfolded the paper and a check lay inside. Disregarding the check momentarily, her eyes immediately drifted to his easily recognizable handwriting.

_Cuddy._

_Here's a check to pay for your house. It's my fault...I might as well pay for it. But knowing you, you'll rip it up, then disgustedly toss it in the garbage. You're considering it right now even as you read the note._

He was right; she was considering it.

_Anyway, I need to see you. It's urgent. Meet me in the park at midnight. I know it's a lot to ask, but this is important. I wouldn't have gone through all this trouble if it wasn't. And please, don't bring an entourage of policemen with you. I get that you want me locked up, but hear me out first then do with me whatever your heart desires._

_Remember. Midnight in the park._

_Greg._

"I'll be _damned_," She muttered, ripping up the check. She didn't know what pissed her off the most: the fact that he was right about her ripping up the check in a disgusted fit, or the fact that she was actually agreeing to meet him at midnight.

She turned hopelessly to Rachel, who was beaming up at her.

"Mommy, I saw Hows!" She repeated, as if her mother didn't hear her the first time.

"I know, honey...I know." _Damnit,_ she thought to herself. "Did he say anything to you?"

"Yeah," She answered, smiling. "He said he missed me, and that he deserved to walk the plank."

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><p><em>Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!<em>


	8. Chapter 8

**I love reading your reviews. They're so awesome and keep me inspired to write more for you all. Thanks so much for the support. :D**

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><p>Cuddy attempted to get some sleep before she was set to go meet House in the park, but she knew it was impossible. So many thoughts raced through her mind. This would be the first time she'd seen House since the ordeal with her home, and she wasn't sure how to react. Pissed off was one option, and it seemed to be the one she was going to take.<p>

Accepting the fact that sleep was impossible, she got up from her bed and walked into her closet. A few minutes later, she emerged dressed in dark jeans, leather boots, a simple white tank top, and a gray hoodie. Even when she dressed casually, she still proved to be a knock out. No one could ever refrain from staring longingly at the lovely Dean.

Why was she going through with this? Right now, Lisa Cuddy was more conflicted than she had ever been in her entire life. One minute she wanted to run him over, the next she didn't. One second she wanted him locked away for life, the next she couldn't keep herself convinced. One millisecond she despised everything about him, the next she loved all the things that made him who he was. Her life was the epitome of the classic emotional roller coaster, and she was the squeamish kid in the front row everyone knew would throw up the second the ride started its ascension.

But she stayed locked in.

Upon shaky legs, she climbed from her car and walked towards him. He was standing all alone under a pale street light. Seeing him again was very painful, and she wasn't sure how to act. He was dressed in dark t-shirt covered by a black jacket, dark blue jeans, and his classic sneakers. He was swinging his cane back and forth nonchalantly. Even from a distance, she could tell he looked like hell. His hair was unkempt, and his facial hair looked a little scraggly. His eyes were tortured, and his posture was deflated. Here was an image of a truly broken man. Approaching him now was an equally broken woman.

"Make it fast," She spat venomously.

House sighed and checked his surroundings, "Good. You're alone."

"Just as you instructed. Now, if you please, I have a board meeting in the morning and I'd like some sleep. Whatever you have to say, say it now."

"I'm sorry," He admitted.

A few seconds passed. "That's it?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you," Her eyes involuntarily rolled and she began her tirade. "You destroy my living room, hide from the authorities for weeks, and now you have the audacity to request my presence in a park at midnight just to apologize for everything? Why do you do this?" She was fuming, her eyes wild and dangerous, yet she remained concentrated. She fully intended on riding this ride to the finish.

House shrugged, "I figured I had to do something."

"Why, so I would drop charges against you? Once again, your motives only include helping yourself. God forbid you actually try to make something right with honest intentions."

"I gave you a check to fix your house, that's hardly selfish. Give me _some_ credit."

Cuddy exploded into insane laughter, "I ripped it up! Just like you said I would! Congratulations, House, you were right, and I am highly angry."

"Angry because I'm right, or angry because now you have to pay for the damage yourself?" He was jerking her chains, and he knew it.

"Screw you, House. You think that because I broke up with you I don't deserve to be happy. That's not true. I do deserve it," Tears were begging to be released from her eyes, but she fought them as hard as she could.

He shook his head in disbelief, "Not with yet another man child! If you're going to pick a rebound, pick someone who's actually worthy of your attention."

"I can't even...House, my sister just set us up for dinner, I wasn't actually seeing him...but even if I had been, that hardly makes it okay for you to just ram through my house," She mumbled. Furious, she turned to walk away. Inside, she was screaming for the ride to be over, just stop it before the first loop, and let her get her feet back on the ground.

But she couldn't let House win.

Cuddy stopped in her tracks, whirled around, and let the words flow from her mouth like a bat out of hell, "Never did I think you would pull something like this. I always expected something, but this? House, you told me it wasn't my fault. That was my clearance to move on, to try to be happy. Just because you live in a miserable world doesn't mean that everyone else has to. Look at what you did to Wilson. Is that really what you want?"

His expression remained unchanged, "I'll fix my issues with Wilson later. He's easier to sway, always has been. You, on the other hand..."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the cops right now and have you locked up."

"Oh, I've definitely got one," He stated in his matter-of-fact way.

"I'm just dying to hear this one. You want to smooth things over because you need a job and you don't want to be locked up...something else to fit your selfish agenda? Do you honestly expect to come back from this? You could have killed me, not to mention the other three people in my living room!" Her stomach lurched with every word.

A few minutes of silence passed. Cuddy stood, impatiently waiting for any kind of response.

House, standing opposite of her, struggled with the right words to say.

"You don't have a reason, do you? House...what you did...it changes everything," Her words were delivered calmly, and she shrugged, frowning. "I'm leaving."

She tried to leave once more, but then he spoke, sending her flying through the first loop. This ride was far from over.

"You love me," He stated calmly.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"And no amount of destruction to your humble abode can change that fact."


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, the next few updates are still the House/Cuddy meeting. I wanted them to have a long conversation, and I hope you all enjoy it. **Just a warning: Things are gonna get worse before they get better...****

**There's a possibility that the updates will slow down significantly because I'm going to camp next week and I won't have access to a computer...but I'll try to give you all as much as I can before I leave. Thanks for reading!**

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><p>He was really trying to set her off now. Cuddy shook her head in disbelief, laughing lightly at what he said. Never before had she been so irritated with House, not even when announced to the entire hospital that the two of them had slept together. That incident almost seemed minor next to what was happening now.<p>

"You're so sure of that?" She questioned, facing him, with a small resemblance of a sly smile spreading across her lips.

"Yes."

Her eyes rolled and she shrugged, "You just have to be right all the time, don't you?"

House sighed and shifted his weight onto his good leg, "Only when it matters." He shook his head and tried to get to the point of the entire meeting, "Look, I asked you to come because I'm seeking forgiveness."

Cuddy laughed and held her hands above her head as if she were praising the heavens. With much sarcasm and mock excitement, she exclaimed, "Oh, the great Gregory House _begs_ for forgiveness? What a _luxury_ it is for me to decide whether or not he gets it!"

House sighed, defeated, "Would you stop with the bitchy attitude?" His tone was slightly harsh and demanding. "This isn't your time of month for god's sake. Cut me some slack."

Her lips curved into a small frown and her blue-green eyes grew sad. After a few seconds of silence, her solemn reply finally came, "Even if I forgive you, it won't change anything."

This wasn't over, not for House. Suddenly, he came alive again, his face leaving his emotionless mask behind. "There's nothing to change, Cuddy. You, by the laws of nature, are who you are, and I'm who I am. That's why we work."

"In _the _most _dysfunctional _way-"

"In _our_ way," He interjected, trying to make her understand. "Please, just forgive me. I didn't mean to put your life in danger. You know me better than anyone does, even Wilson."

Cuddy was speechless. He had finally opened up and begged for her forgiveness. Somehow, that didn't make things any easier. She wanted to forgive him, but if she did, what would it even mean in the long run?

Sick of arguing with herself, she answered, overcome with defeat, "Fine. I forgive you...just like I always do." She had said that she'd forgiven him, but she knew that she couldn't, not completely.

Satisfied, House reminded her, "And I'm going to hurt you again. Just like I always do. It's a vicious circle, but it's how our lives work. Accept it."

She grew more emotional, but not a single tear fell. "I already have...over twenty years ago!" At this point, Cuddy didn't know what she was trying to say, or even if her words would matter if she managed to deliver them correctly. "House, I knew back in school that our relationship- no matter if it was a work relationship, romantic, or friendly- would always be like this."

An element of surprise mixed with sheer cynicism broke across his face, "Wow, so you could see into the future? So after the party, after the one night stand, you just _knew _that we would act the way we do and I'd be your biggest mistake?" He shook his head and mocked her, "Wish I could do that; it sounds beneficial. Maybe then I would have known about my leg ahead of time."

Cuddy sighed and looked at him with pain clearly displayed across her eyes. He could swear that just by looking into her eyes that he could see the depths of her soul. "House, you're not my biggest mistake."

His reply was short, yet far from simple, "Then take me back."

It hit her like a train and sent her personal roller coaster through a barrel roll. At first, she couldn't believe that she'd even heard him correctly. "Excuse me?" Was that really what he had just said?

He shrugged, "Your mother was right." He paused to scratch his chin, the proceeded to explain, "Who the hell else would ever want to put up with your impossible standards, your bitchy patterns, and your jealous tendencies?"

Folding her arms across her chest, Cuddy raised one eyebrow in surprise, "Like you're so perfect or something?"

"You already know about all of my issues, seeing as you analyzed them at full length just to come to the realization that I don't meet those impossible standards of yours. So what's the point of even mentioning them?" The man had such a way with words.

"They're critical," she returned. Now, it was just a battle of wits. "You can't go a day without popping one third of a bottle of Vicodin, or more."

"Actually," He began. "I can, and I have. You lose. Thanks for playing, better luck next time."

"Anyone who is close to you gets hurt," she tried once more, trying to regain the upper hand in this argument.

House nearly laughed, "You're going to have to do better than that."

"You're always right."

He nodded, finally satisfied with her answer, "Aaaand we have a winner! Congratulations. Given the fact that I'm always right, that generally implies that I'm never wrong...however, that isn't true; I have been known to slip up occasionally, like when I drove through your house. But in the grand scheme of things, and not by any stretch of the imagination does that qualify me as being wrong for you." He was getting to the bottom of his rant now, and he knew the ending of his delicately planned speech would render her tongue-tied. "You say I'm always right...so, by your own logic, me being always right implies that I'm right for you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks for reading. I think the end of this update will really shock quite a few of you! Hopefully in a good way haha. But as always, I appreciate you all taking the time to read and review, it means a lot to me.**

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><p>Cuddy's draw dropped and her eyes narrowed, dumbstruck at what she'd just heard. "You..." she started. "You can't just twist my words like that."<p>

He offered her a meek smile, "Oh, but I didn't. You gave me the bait, and I described your innermost feelings, my dear Lisa."

She shrugged once and took a step back, "What are you trying to prove? I want to go home, so if you have a point, which I'm almost convinced that you don't, make it now so I can leave. Cut the bullshit and say what's really on your mind." Lisa Cuddy was done playing games.

House's face softened and he told the truth, "You told me that you didn't want me to change, so I didn't."

"I know, and I was wrong."

He wasn't finished, "And that being with me made you better. You told me that you had never been happier."

"House, I didn't lie to you," she said, defending her position as best she could.

"Then what's the problem?"

"We can't go backwards," She admitted simply, putting her hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

"Says who?"

"It's just not normal."

House nodded, then spoke again, "We aren't normal people. You said that what we had was uncommon. There's nothing common about who we are...and uncommon people do uncommon things. Tell me where I'm wrong."

She had to give it to him; he was right, as usual. "You're not _wrong_, but-"

"But what?" He asked, his tone growing firmer and the volume of his voice rising with every word. "Every day you go to work wanting people to believe that you're some powerful, fearless woman. Well here's your chance to prove it. What are you so afraid of?"

Cuddy exhaled heavily, "I don't know. I'm afraid of it all falling apart again. We tried and it didn't work-"

"Because you gave up too fast. Your excuse for breaking up with me was a stupid one. You wanna know what I think?"

"It's not like I have a choice, seeing as you're going to tell me regardless."

He ignored her little remark, "You ended it because you found happiness and you were afraid of holding onto it."

She pulled one hand from her pocket and accusingly pointed her index finger at him, prodding it into his soul. "Don't try to turn the tables or reverse the roles. I am perfectly fine with being happy. _You,_ on the other hand-"

"Then why are you so miserable? I know I'm not the only who is. _I_ know I'm screwed up. _You_ know I'm screwed up." House frowned deeply, "At one time you accepted that. What changed?"

Cuddy stared at him sadly, the tears finally welling up to the point of spilling over. "If you're asking when I stopped loving you, the answer is never." It pained her to admit it, but she couldn't keep lying to herself. She loved the man, probably too much, but she loved him all the same.

"Then how did we end up like this?"

"I don't know," she answered, honestly.

Once a few minutes passed, House was the one to break the silence, "What we had...I want it back. You wanted me to be more open, more vulnerable...well here it is. Take it or leave it. This is the last time I'm trying."

"This...this honest conversation? All of this is almost too much to take," She paused, reflecting on the past few minutes of their interaction tonight. "I think this is the most honest you've _ever_ been with me. Why now?"

Noting her genuine curiosity, he gave her the kindness of an answer, "Because this is when it mattered the most. If I wasn't completely honest now then I'd only have myself to blame."

"No, you can probably blame me for a lot more than this," she disagreed, shaking her head.

He had to prove her wrong, "I didn't blame you for what happened with my leg because I didn't think it was your fault. That was Stacy's doing. I didn't blame you for trying to fire me after I hallucinated about a night with you because I was the one who acted out of line. I didn't blame you when you forced me to move my sham wedding from the hospital chapel because I was the one feeding your guilt...and I didn't blame you when you left my wedding because your pain was my fault."

She smiled softly, "I don't need a resume of all the things we both wish had gone differently."

"Well, you need to know that none of this is your fault." He gathered his words to explain, "I'm a horrible person, and like I've said before, I'm an absolutely insane choice for someone with a three year old daughter...so this is your choice and yours alone."

Cuddy realized that it was her turn to be completely honest now, "I never wanted it to be like this. I wanted it to work, I really did. Like it or not, you are a part of my life, and you _always_ will be. I've tried to push you away and I can't. It's not only me, but Rachel too. She loves you."

"But do you?" His icy blue eyes bore into her own, and demanded honesty to perfection.

"Yes," She answered, amazed at how admitting it felt. "Yes I do. I can't help it."

"You wish you didn't." It wasn't a question.

"No," she disagreed, her shoulders rolling forward in a small shrug. "Not anymore. Now I just wish it would be enough."

House's face softened tremendously, "It's always been enough for me. You know that."

Overcome by the amount of honesty both of them had been showing tonight, she took a few steps towards him, the tears now flowing freely down her face. The ride was almost over, but before her stood one more loop.

"It's not enough for me," She stated solemnly. "House, what happened a few weeks ago...I may have forgiven you for it, but I can't just pretend that it didn't happen. You could have killed me...I actually think you _wanted_ to."

He shook his head, "No I didn't. You know that isn't who I am."

Cuddy shrugged, "You've been honest with me, and now I'm going to be even more honest with you.

"What you did is unforgivable...I'm stunned that I actually _do_ forgive you for it. You want me to take you back, and that just _can't_ happen-"

"I'm making changes," He interrupted.

"Before or after you turn yourself in?" Cuddy inquired, changing the game entirely.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, House. Do the right thing," Her eyes were almost pleading. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and handed it to him. "The only way we ever have a chance at moving on from this is if you fess up like an adult. I've been holding back for weeks now because I wanted a chance to talk to you, but now I know that this is what you need."

"Cuddy, please. I...I thought we were fixing things...and now you just decide that I should turn myself in? You just told me you love me; I didn't think a declaration of love came with a jail sentence..."

"House," Cuddy started, her patience wearing thin. "Either you call them, or I will. I do love you, and I always will, but what you did changes everything. You've always gotten out of everything, but not this time. You need to face the consequences of this."

House nodded and dialed 911. "You're right. I never wanted this to happen...I really am sorry, Cuddy. "

"Me too," She responded, shaking her head sadly.

"Yes," House said into the phone. "My name is Gregory House, I'm here with Lisa Cuddy... and I...I'd like to turn myself in."


	11. Chapter 11

When the cops arrived to apprehend House, Cuddy explained to the cops that he hadn't acted out of line since she'd been with him in the park, and that she had agreed to meet him tonight because she trusted him not to hurt her. She was more calm than the policemen and managed to convince them that House hadn't threatened her. She also requested that some of his charges be dropped, but she stressed that it was imperative that he serve time.

Before he stepped into the cop car, Cuddy looked at him with expression of pure sadness, but as he stared back at her, she saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. She didn't know what it meant, but she would remain optimistic. Maybe this was the push that House needed.

"Goodbye, House," Cuddy called after him.

He turned to face her one more time, "Goodbye, Cuddy."

She had to pull over several times on her way home. Her tears were blinding her to the point to where she couldn't see the road. So many emotions ran through her: guilt, sadness, regret, and a shimmer of hope. She actually found herself praying that this would help House. It was probably a long shot, but Cuddy put so much faith in him. She wanted him to put his life back together. He wasn't the same man he was in school. She hated seeing him while he was so overcome by pain and misery. It hurt her even more to think that she had been partially responsible for his pain, even if he had said it wasn't her fault. She knew that she deserved some blame.

When she finally made it home, Cuddy didn't sleep much. She tried, but kept tossing and turning, wondering how he was doing. Was he already in his cell? Did he hate her? All these thoughts cascaded through her mind, and she didn't have any of the answers.

After her board meeting the next morning, Lisa Cuddy made her way to Wilson's office. As she walked in, he looked up from the paper he was signing and saw the sadness shadowed on her crestfallen face.

"You did the right thing," He said, attempting to reassure her.

"I sure feel like I didn't," She admitted, slumping into one of the chairs in his office.

"No, he needs this. Cuddy, you probably just did him the biggest favor. All of his life he's found his way out of trouble, but you didn't let him get out of it this time. The sooner House starts realizing that every action has a consequence, the better off he'll be," Wilson explained. He sighed and leaned forward on his desk, "Are you worried that he won't forgive you for it?"

She shook her head, "No, not really; I think he will. Last night when they handcuffed him, he looked back at me and I can swear that I saw a gleam of gratitude, or hope, or _something _in his eyes." She laughed lightly, " He didn't even try to run...he just _submitted,_ didn't even make some smartass remark. It almost made me think that this was what he wanted all along."

He shrugged, "Maybe. I've been trying to figure out what goes on in his sick mind for years, and I haven't even scraped the surface." Wilson paused and locked his desk drawer. "I'm going to see him...you want to come?"

"No," She answered, standing up. "I've said all that there was for me to say to him, Wilson. Now it's your turn."

"You're sure?"

"Positive," Cuddy smiled. "I told him I loved him, but that this was what he needed."

Wilson put on his jacket and followed Cuddy out of his office. "Good for you," He assured her.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

When Wilson arrived to the prison, he calmly walked inside and asked to see Greg House. The guard led him to a chair, where he was instructed to sit. Facing him was a glass wall and a phone. He never thought that this was how he would have to be forced to speak with an old friend.

A few minutes passed until House, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, slowly limped over and took his seat on the opposite side of the glass. He looked like he hadn't slept much, but he didn't appear to be angry. In fact, something about his eyes made him almost look content.

He picked up the phone on his side of the glass and looked at Wilson, "Never thought you'd be my first visitor. Did Cuddy tell you that she caught me being honest, so you figured you'd try to get in on it while supplies last?"

_Classic House,_ Wilson thought. He shook his head, "No, actually I just wanted to let you know that I'm glad you turned yourself in."

"Cuddy didn't leave me with much of a choice," House stated, resting his head on his chin.

"It's because she loves you."

"I know."

A few moments of silence passed before Wilson spoke again, "House, I hate you for what you did. But you're my friend, and I can't hate you forever."

"Sure you can," House argued. "You can hate me for the rest of your life, but it still won't undo what I've already managed to screw up."

"I can't believe you tried to kill her, nearly running me over in the process," Wilson expressed, his face stricken with shock.

"I didn't try to kill her," House pressed, pronouncing every syllable distinctly. "Look, I don't need you here preaching to me about my life choices. I'm sorry about your arm, by the way. It really sucks when one of your limbs is constantly in pain for a period of time, doesn't it?"

Wilson sighed and leaned back in the chair, resting the phone between his cheek and shoulder, "House, you need help."

"I plan on getting it, Wilson. That's the only way I'm ever going to move on and change."

Wilson's face showed a hint of a smile, "You're right...so what's next?"

"Well," House began. "I'm in here for six months. By Cuddy's request, some of my charges were dropped, but I still have to serve some time for ramming her house. After that...well, I don't know what I'll do next, but I figure that I've got nothing to lose, so surely whatever I do decide on can't make my life any worse."

"I think in time you'll come to appreciate what Cuddy did," Wilson assured him.

"I already do," He corrected, staring Wilson directly in the eye.

"Good. I'm just glad you don't hate her for it."

"I may be a miserable bastard, but that's never enough to get me to hate Cuddy. She...she didn't do anything wrong. This time it was all me. I'm going to be honest, for a second last night I actually thought she would take me back...and even though that's what I want in the long run, I'm glad she didn't. I'm done making her miserable, and I'm done being miserable," House was being completely open, something that he very rarely did. What had spurred his sudden honesty, Wilson may never know. But it was a combination of many things. He had to change, and he had nothing to lose by being honest.

"That's great, House."

"Not really...I had to go through a pile of crap just to realize what a horrible person I am. Better late than never...Wilson, I want you to leave, and don't come back to visit me."

Wilson was shocked at his request, "Why?"

"Because I know I'm not forgiven by you or Cuddy, at least not entirely. But I need to find peace, and I need to do it alone. I promise the next time you see me, I'll be different. They say time changes everything...and I hope this will change everything too," House explained, confidently. He was going to make an honest effort to change for his sake, and for the sake of others around him.

Wilson nodded and respected his friend's wishes, "Alright."

"I'm sorry, Wilson," House said, then he hung up the phone, motioned to the guard, and left Wilson alone.

Wilson sat in silence, growing hopeful for his friend. He knew that House needed this in order to move on, to be less miserable. House hadn't given himself the chance to really explain his actions to Wilson in the short duration that he visited the jail, but he figured he'd get all the answers he wanted as soon as House was released.

Wilson smiled to himself; though he wasn't anywhere close to being ready to forgive House, this was certainly a good start.

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><p><em>I've hit a small writer's block, and it's rather bothersome, but while I'm away at camp from Sunday until Thursday, I will definitely be brainstorming. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story. It's very much appreciated!<em>


	12. Chapter 12

**Well, I'm back from camp, so hopefully the updates will come at a quicker rate. Thanks for reading.**

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><p>After about a week in prison, House began his "anger management" sessions with a local psychologist named Phillip Logan. The whole idea was ridiculous to him, but the sessions were mandatory.<p>

Escorted by a stoic looking guard, House limped down the hallway to an office at the end of the hallway. The guard swiftly unlocked the door and let him in.

Phillip Logan was sitting at his desk. He wasn't a striking man. Clad in a red polo shirt, a black sweater vest, black pants, and black dress shoes, he stood and welcomed House. He had thinning gray hair and sported a plump yet cherubic face.

"Gregory House? Hello, my name is Phillip Logan. It's a pleasure to meet you." Phillip held out one hand.

Rolling his eyes at the psychologist's formalities, House lightly shook his hand and sat down. "Let's get this over with."

"Right," Phillip muttered before sitting down at his desk again. He faced House in silence for a few moments before beginning, "So, let's talk about why you're here."

"I drove through a house...what more could you possibly need to know? Oh, that's right...you want to know about my _feelings,_ how running through the house made me _feel,_ all of that _feeling feely_ stuff that no one cares about."

Phillip blinked once, "Yes...about your feelings."

House shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his eyes wandering around the room. His voice lowered, "Why do you even care?"

"Well, it's my job."

"My job...oh, excuse me, my _former_ job was to save people's lives. You think I cared if I did it or not?"

Phillip nodded, "I believe you did care if they lived or died."

"You're wrong," House challenged.

He wasn't convinced. "You know, I'm not so sure I am. From what I've read about you, you enjoy a good puzzle, and while I believe that's true, I also believe that you care about your patients. They're your puzzle, which means that they mean something to you."

House was speechless for a few moments.

"Am I right?" Phillip asked.

"Yes."

"That's what I thought," Phillip said. "Now," He began, changing the direction of the conversation. "Let's talk about the incident with Lisa Cuddy."

"She's my former boss. What more do you want to know?"

"Listen to me, House. These sessions are mandatory, meaning that if you don't talk, I'll have to put in a bad word for you. So, I suggest you try to talk this out. What's the downside?"

House sighed, "The downside is pouring out the depths of my soul to someone who I've known for five minutes. Why do you have the right to know what goes on in my head? Oh, you're a licensed psychologist, I get that. But I'm a free American, I don't have to say a _word_ to you."

Phillip was clearly growing frustrated, yet he was determined to break Gregory House. "I understand your apprehension. I'm asking a lot, I know, but the only way to move on from this is to talk about it."

"You know? It's funny, Cuddy was trying to get me to open up before I drove into her house... Got a toy car I can ram into your computer?"

The psychologist rubbed his temple and glared at House. Realizing that he was clearly agitating Phillip, House sighed and surrendered. "I'll tell you what you want to know."

"Thank you," Came his reply. "So, tell me about the crash."

"I saw her with another man."

"So you became jealous?"

He shrugged, "I guess you could say that. I felt hurt. Earlier she'd told me that she wasn't seeing anyone, so I thought she'd lied to me. The night I turned myself in, she explained that she wasn't seeing him. I felt like the biggest idiot in the world."

Phillip watched him explain, analyzing his face and the pained gleam tearing at his blue eyes. House was a hurting man, and Phillip was determined to do all he could for him.

"Did you feel angry?"

"I felt hurt. I wasn't..._angry,_ just hurt."

"Seeing her potentially be moving on," Phillip started. "That bothered you." It wasn't a question. "So you still had feelings for her, yes?"

House shook his head, "Wrong tense. You said 'had'...I still _have_ feelings for her, even now. I wasn't over her, and I'm still not."

"What is it about Lisa that draws you in?" Phillip asked, trying to see House's tender side.

"That's a loaded question. Everything draws me in. Her smile, her ass, her eyes." House paused and grew serious, "Her leadership, her courage, her personality, her dedication, her ability to forgive..."

"You say her ability to forgive. She's forgiven you?"

"Somewhat," House answered. "We've got a long way to go."

"How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, "I'm absolutely miserable. I've hurt everyone that ever gave a crap about me. How am I supposed to feel about that?"

"Is that all that's making you miserable?"

"No," He gripped his leg. "My leg is constantly in pain and now that I'm being kept from Vicodin, it's worse.

"Have you ever considered amputation?"

"NO!" House yelled suddenly. "Do you know how important a leg is?"

"Is it so important that it's worth being in pain over? If there's a problem that serious in your life, the best way to deal with it is to get rid of it in the most appropriate manner available," Phillip explained, trying to talk some sense into House.

"What's the point? It's not like I have anything left outside of these walls. I can be in pain for the rest of my life. No one's gonna be around to put up with it anyway."

Phillip sighed, "I won't tell you what to do, but it's something you should consider. It would eliminate one of the reasons why you're so miserable."

House shook his head.

"House, I'm on your side. I'm here to help you. Just remember that. I am not your enemy and I will stand up for you. I wouldn't be recommending the amputation if I thought it would be a bad idea," Phillip assured genuinely.

"How much longer is this damn meeting?"


	13. Chapter 13

For the next few weeks, House was meeting with Phillip every Tuesday and Thursday. He had also been going through a long, miserable detox process. Many nights in his cells were spent shivering and quietly puking, just trying to push the drug out of his system. His craving grew exponentially worse as did the pain in his leg. His meetings with Phillip weren't helping either. Phillip hadn't made much progress with House, although he managed to get him to open up about Lisa Cuddy one more time.

"_Tell me about your relationship with Lisa Cuddy."_

"_I've known her for over twenty years. I met her back in school. It was that typical, mushy, love-at-first sight crap."_

"_Anything else?"_

"_Anything else happens to be the same thing as none of your business."_

He refused to tell anymore explicit details about his past with Cuddy. He didn't feel like sharing all of his memories. Sometimes, things were better left unsaid. This Phillip guy didn't need to know how he truly felt about her. A feeling that strong was none of his business, in House's mind.

He spoke very little of what it was like to "move on" after the break up, why he was broken up with in the first place, and what the relationship was like. Most of the time when Phillip prodded his memories, House grew defensive and refused to go into great detail.

A few more times, Phillip had brought up House's leg, and the possibility of amputation. Every time, House shot his opinion down. He didn't want to talk about it because he didn't see it as being very beneficial. However, in the back of his mind, he knew. He knew that his life would be made easier without having to deal with a destroyed limb. It was just letting it go that seemed to be the issue, and accepting the fact that he would have a prosthetic. House was stubborn, and he didn't want to give up his leg, even if it could make the pain go away. It was more than just a leg to him, and Phillip couldn't really understand that.

For the most part, House generally kept to himself. He didn't speak to the other prisoners unless he was spoken to. Once or twice, they would ask him why he was here, and House would have to go through the process of explaining his actions. At first, he made a solid attempt at justifying what he'd done, but in the end he knew that a proper justification was impossible. He couldn't possibly come up with a reasonable excuse for what he'd done.

House was alone and miserable. He was stuck in square one.

"You're Greg House, right?" One of the prisoners asked him one day. He was a tall, muscular man covered in tattoos. He wore a mean mask, but House took one look into his eyes. This man was living a lie. He looked brutal, but on the inside, he was broken, lost, hurt, and alone.

"Yeah, I'm him. Who wants to know?"

"You're the man that drove through some lady's house."

House nodded.

"Man, you're an idiot," The man began. "You do some stupid ass move like that and end up in here? You were a doctor and you just pissed it all away."

House cocked his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, "Are you the prison preacher or something? Because I'd like to make it really clear that I don't need some thug, rotting low life to tell me about my life choices. I know I've made mistakes. You have too, else you wouldn't be here...unless of course you're taking a family vacation. Great place to take the kids," He spat sarcastically.

"You better watch the way you're talking to me, Doc."

"What are you gonna do to me?" House challenged. "Take my cane?"

The man closed the distance between the two of them. "I'll do whatever I see fit. I'm in here for life, man; I'm not afraid to throw a few punches."

"That won't be necessary. I'm a cripple, which means you have an advantage...which means that this is an unfair match...so I'm going to walk away."

House turned to walk away, but the man grabbed his arm, "You know the difference between me and you?"

"You're big and ugly, and I'm not?"

He looked House straight in the eye, "I've got nothing to lose." He brought his right fist back and drilled House directly in the left eye, sending him toppling to the ground with a loud crash.

Several other prisoners gathered around and begin to chant and laugh around them.

House shook his head, his vision going blurry. Above him he saw the man, a proud smirk burning on his face. Surrounding the man was a mob of mocking prisoners, spitting and laughing at House doubled over on the cool, prison floor.

Realizing that House wasn't going to get up, the huge monster of a man got down on his knees and sent several punches scattering across House's sweaty face. Several times, House tried to scream out in protest, but every time he tried he found the man's fist colliding with his mouth. A salty, rust tasting liquid ran down his throat. Blood. He didn't know where the blood was coming from. It could have been flowing from anywhere on his battered face.

A few minutes passed until House felt the beating stop. Was he dying? Was the man giving up? House painfully opened his eyes and managed to discern an image of the man being forcefully dragged off of House by two security guards who had finally intervened. Within seconds, a medic was at House's side, observing his wounds. He heard the medic's voice through the fray and tried to answer, but then everything went black.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

The sound of a beeping heart monitor woke him hours later. The room was bright and his head was pounding. The walls looked as if they were about to cave in.

"Dr. House?" The medic called. Her voice was feminine and concerned. "If you can hear me, I want you to blink twice."

House blinked twice.

She walked around to face him. She appeared to be very young. She had long brown hair pulled up into a messy bun and dark, piercing eyes. House read her name tag. Her name was Erin.

"You have multiple cuts and bruises across your entire face," She explained, handing him a mirror.

House looked at himself through the mirror and rolled his eyes. He silently cursed his luck. His left eye was surrounded in deep purple and his right cheek matched in color. A large cut decorated with stitches graced his forehead and his lower lip was busted. Luckily, he hadn't lost any teeth, but he still looked like hell. A few minor cuts adorned his cheeks and jaws. The medic had cleaned all the blood from his face, but that barely helped at all.

"I have some cream to put on your cuts."

House shook his head, pulled the wires away from his arms, and stood, reaching for his cane.

"House," Erin called. "I'm sorry, but you can't leave."

"Really? Sure looks like that's what I'm doing." He pushed his way around the room in a struggle. The world around him was spinning, but he was determined to get away.

"Sir, you need this cream."

House stopped and turned to face Erin, "I'm a doctor. I don't need that cream."

"It'll help with the pain."

House shook his head, "Wrong again."

She was wrong. Nothing could help with the pain he was experiencing...both physically and emotionally. He was broken and at his lowest point...the man who had beaten him had been wrong. The two of them weren't all that different after all. Neither had anything to lose.


	14. Chapter 14

**That last chapter was pretty depressing, so I'm hoping you'll find that this one is a little more light hearted. On a side note: I'm writing some of the final chapters right now and I'm really excited to post them...but we've got a little ways to go before we get to them. But as always, thank you for reading!**

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><p>Everyone at Princeton-Plainsboro knew, but no one dared to ask Lisa Cuddy anything about House. Two months had passed, yet the hospital was still buzzing with curiosity. All the employees wanted to know what House's future held. Even if they had the courage to ask their Dean, she wouldn't be able to give them an answer. She was just as curious as they were.<p>

Several times, she nearly broke down and went to visit him, but she couldn't. No, seeing her was the last thing he would want, right? She couldn't convince her of that, yet she refused to visit him. She and Wilson both had to let him do this on his own without any interference from them. Cuddy didn't want his past slithering into his time of healing...if healing was actually what he was doing. She hoped that he was making an honest attempt at change and that he was being successful. She allowed that scenario to play out in her mind. In her little world, she saw him attending therapy sessions, pouring out his soul, and taking steps to have a better life. She saw him making bonds with the other prisoners. Little did she know, that was the opposite of what he was doing. Cuddy paused mid-thought; she knew better but wouldn't let herself accept that House was really going through hell. She didn't want him to suffer anymore.

At first, she'd wanted him to suffer the consequences for putting lives in danger, but now...now she just wanted him to come back. Going to work everyday wasn't fun anymore. Everyday, she waited for him to burst through her office doors in a demand for some outrageous procedure on a patient...but he never came. She never knew that life without House would be so dull, so empty, so miserable.

"Wilson," she began one afternoon at lunch.

Wilson swallowed a bite of his salad and looked up at his boss, waiting expectantly for her inevitable tirade.

"Do you ever think about him?"

"Of course I do. He was my best friend."

She bit down on her lower lip absentmindedly, "Well, how do you think he's doing? I mean, do you think he's making any progress?"

Wilson sighed and set his fork down on the table, "Cuddy, this is House we're talking about." He watched her eyes start to water and quickly rephrased his words, "House has a way of surprising people...so maybe he's really changing this time."

He didn't believe what he'd just said, and he failed at convincing Cuddy as well. She shook her head and wiped the corners of her eyes with her napkin. "I know you're just trying to make me feel better, but I don't think either of us can handle false hope."

"Cuddy, you've got to stop dwelling on it. Just don't have any expectations. I don't. Hell, when he came out of Mayfield, I never expected him to be clean for so long, but he was. Maybe a miracle will happen."

Cuddy pursed her lips and nodded, "You're right. I'm sorry, Wilson, I just want the best for him."

"I understand. You care about him."

"Yeah, I do. A lot."

"And I do too," Wilson assured her. "But you've got to let him to do this on his own. He made me promise not to go see him again, and I'm sure he'd want the same for you. Once he's out, who knows what will happen? Just know that it doesn't do you any good stressing over it. You've got a hospital to run...House has a life to fix...you've got better luck attending to your hospital."

Cuddy smiled, "Wilson, I think you missed your calling. Forget oncology, why weren't you ever a therapist?"

Wilson shrugged, "I never realized I was good at it until I met you and House."

"I guess our dysfunctional relationship affected more than just the two of us."

"It absolutely traumatized the poor nurse that saw you two getting it on in your office."

Cuddy's jaw dropped, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I _never_ had sex with him in my office."

"I never said you were having sex...I said you were getting it on...which could indicate a prelude to sex," Wilson corrected, standing up and throwing his trash in the garbage can. He pointed one finger at her, "When you don't close your blinds all the way, you have no secrets."

After Wilson had left, Cuddy sat, shocked at what she'd just heard. She shook her head once, smiling to herself. Her blue-green eyes looked around, cautiously, curious as to who the unfortunate nurse was. Snickering lightly, Cuddy threw away her trash and sauntered away to her office, pleased by the information Wilson had just given her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone. I just want to give a special thank you to JessicaLynH for giving me her idea of the letters you'll read about in this update. I appreciate it a lot! :D**

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><p>Lisa Cuddy was horribly conflicted. Though she trusted Wilson's advice, she couldn't follow it. Not knowing House's condition was driving her crazy. Up against her own level of stubbornness, she knew she wouldn't push herself to visit him. Seeing him in prison would be too much for the both of them, and she didn't want that image burned in her mind.<p>

She had to contact him somehow. Her eyes darted around her office until they landed on a pad of paper and a pen. A sigh slipped through her parted lips. She was going to write to him. Cuddy knew he'd probably reject the idea. He'd probably find it juvenile and useless, but she had to do something. Surely he would want some kind of distraction. Making up her mind, she grabbed the pen and paper and got to work.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

House was sitting on the edge of his cell bed when a guard stopped in front of his door.

"Can I help you?" House asked.

"I'm delivering a letter to you."

"A letter? If this is about malpractice...I'm technically not a doctor at the moment-"

"It's from Lisa Cuddy."

House pushed himself off the bed and hobbled over to the door. The guard slipped the letter through one of the bars and left without another word.

With shaky fingers, House pried the envelope open, unsure of what he would find. Just receiving a letter was shocking, but a letter from Cuddy? What more could she possibly have to say?

Returning to his bed, he sat and fumbled with the paper, his nervous hands barely able to open it. At first, his vision blurred and as he stared at her familiar, feminine handwriting. Taking slow, regulated breaths, he began to read:

_House,_

_I'm not really sure why I'm writing this, or what I'm hoping to accomplish...anyway, I just wanted to ask how you're doing. Wilson told me just to leave you alone, but I can't. Just...whenever you get time, or if you feel like it, write me back, okay? I'll understand if you don't but I'd like to hear from you._

_Write me if/when you can._

_Lisa_

House's breath caught in his throat as his eyes travelled down the page. He leaned against the wall behind his bed for support. This was the first contact with the outside world he had experienced since Wilson had visited him. He stared at the letter again, tracing the words with his thumb, making sure it was real.

His eyes wandered back to the envelope. Inside there was a blank sheet of paper and a pen. _Cuddy being prepared,_ he thought, rolling his eyes affectionately at her example of thinking ahead. Though she expressed doubts in her letter, Cuddy knew he'd write back. She knew that by including the pen and the paper, he'd have no excuse to not write her back, unless he simply didn't want to.

He contemplated for a few moments, unsure of what to say in his response. With much uncertainty, he picked up the pen and put it to the paper. There was so much he wanted and needed to say, but he couldn't really find the words. House had never been one to open up, especially to Cuddy.

He struggled in silence for a few moments, then put the pen and paper down. If he was going to take the time and effort to write back, he wanted to do it right. He ran through his mental checklist of things he wanted to say to Cuddy. He sorted between what would be appropriate and inappropriate to bring up now. For the first time in a while, House actually _cared_ about doing this correctly. A lot of damage had been done to his relationship with Cuddy, and he would try to salvage whatever was left, even if it was through a letter.

Picking up the pen and paper again, he began to write, still a little surprised at Cuddy's effort to contact him.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

One Saturday morning, several days after sending House a letter, Cuddy stepped out her front door, snuggled in her deep red bath robe. Her slippers padded quietly across the concrete, navigating her towards the mailbox at the end of her driveway. Half asleep, she pulled out the wad of envelopes from her mailbox, sorting through them. Bills, a conference invitation, more bills, a letter from House, bills- a letter...from _House._ Cuddy nearly dropped the handful of envelopes on the ground, her eyes flashing a double take at the letter.

Anxious to read his reply, she scurried back into her house, tossing all her other mail on the kitchen table. Taking one quick swig of her coffee, she walked briskly into her living room and slid onto the couch. Struggling at first, she finally managed to open the envelope. A smile rose to her lips as recognized his handwriting.

Holding it at an appropriate reading distance from her face, Cuddy began to read the letter from Greg House, thrilled that he'd actually written back.


	16. Chapter 16

_Cuddy,_

_Congratulations: you got me to write another letter. That's impressive. Twice in one year. In all honesty, I was a little surprised to hear from you. I figured you wouldn't want anything more to do with me. But I'm glad. I'm bored out of my mind, so this gives me something do. Anyway, I'm in my cell right now. It's a cold little box. There's nothing remarkable about it, although the bed is quite comfortable. _

_I don't even know how long I've been in here. I lost track of time._

_I've been meeting with a psychologist twice a week. Not sure how much good it's doing. My smartass mouth got me into a fight not too long ago. Got beat up pretty bad, so now I'm extremely grateful you stopped at a letter. You don't need to see me like this...it would probably destroy my ego._

_All joking aside, it's nearly time for lunch and I don't want to get in the back of the line...you know how I hate when my food gets cold. Whenever you get this, write back and tell me about whatever you feel like talking about and I'll listen. Just include more paper, else I'll have to start writing on my toilet paper. _

_House_

A single tear dripped from her eyes as she pictured him sitting on his bed all alone. She loved how personal the letter felt, even if he hadn't revealed too much about his feelings. Her eyes picked the letter apart. One line made her smile the most. _"Whenever you get this, write back and tell me about whatever you feel like talking about and I'll listen."_ Cuddy didn't know if it was because he was insanely bored or if it was because he actually wanted to know what was going on in her life. Whatever the reason, she was glad that he agreed to listen.

Cuddy spent the rest of the day contemplating what she would include in her next letter to House. Should she mention the accident that landed him in jail? Should she mention the hospital? She didn't know.

By the time the sky was fully dark and the stars had settled in for the night, Cuddy was done thinking. She rested on the idea that whatever she decided to say would be strictly from the heart. Besides, he couldn't physically see her. Having that thought in mind, she reasoned that now would be the best time to get him to open up, and to allow herself to open up as well. She highly doubted that he would be able to deflect so well in a letter. In fact, he didn't really have a reason to. She couldn't see him, he couldn't see her. There would be no point in hiding anything now.

Monday morning, she dropped the letter into the mailbox before heading to the hospital for yet another Monday without him.

When she walked through the main entrance of the hospital, everything was carrying on as usual. She felt alone, isolated in her pain. Maybe Wilson understood to an extent, but even he couldn't begin to feel the true impact of House's absence. A part of her life that had remained constant for over twenty years was now gone, nearly vanished completely. As she looked around the hospital; however, every wall still held a memory of him. Even the negative memories remained, but they didn't haunt her. They just served as one more moment in time spent with him that she could hold onto.

These letters, she figured, would serve as the only way to reign House back into her life. Yes, the two of them were at a distance for now, but it was better than the nothingness that she had been experiencing prior to the first letter. Just being contacted by him put her a little more at ease than she had been since he had been arrested. It was a small step forward, but at least it wasn't a fraction of a step backward.

The moment Cuddy sat down at her desk, her phone began wailing in her ears. Slightly irritated, she picked up the receiver to begin her day. Expecting a pharmacy rep, she was stunned at the voice on the other end. Her sister.

"Hey Lisa."

"Julia, what the hell are you doing up so early?" She asked, clearly concerned.

"I have a job, too. I might not be the Dean of Medicine, but I still work."

"Sorry," Cuddy replied, relaxing her breathing. "I'm just not used to receiving phone calls from you so early. What's going on?"

Cuddy could picture her sister shrugging on the other end of the line. "I don't know, I just wanted to check on you. I haven't talked to you since he was arrested."

Right. Since House was arrested. "I'm doing okay. It was really difficult there for a while."

"Well, do you want to talk about it?"

"Jules, I have a lot to do this morning, can this wait?"

"You know, you're just like him, Lisa."

Cuddy's jaw dropped as she exclaimed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You don't open up when people try to help you. You just deflect."

"No," Cuddy disagreed. "I do open up, but now is not the time. Please, I've been through hell the past few months of my life. I do not need you making it worse."

"How could I possibly make it worse?"

"Julia," She began. "House and I are in contact. We just started writing letters to one another. I know you'll call me crazy, or think that it's stupid, but I swear to God…it's helping. Just hearing from him-"

"You love him," Julia interrupted. "And I was stupid to think that you couldn't even after all that's happened."

"Of course I do, but right now, House and I have to talk. I think I can get him to talk to me through these letters. We have a long way to go, but I'm tired of this entire mess hanging over my head."

"I know you are, Lise," Her sister offered sympathetically. "But is it really worth it?"

"Yes, it is. We both need this. It's just a way to keep us in each other's lives while were separated. I just want him to know that I care. I want my friend back."

"The man drove through your house."

Cuddy nodded, "Yes, but he's a messed up man, Julia. He's getting the help he needs."

"And what if it doesn't help him?"

"Well, then I'll deal with that when the time comes, and you'll have the opportunity to tell me 'I told you so.' Look, I have to go, but we'll talk some other time."

Cuddy placed her phone back onto it's cradle and buried her face in her hands.

Maybe her sister had a point, but Cuddy was stubborn. She wasn't going to give up on House, not yet.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey everyone. Unfortunately, I will be out of town yet again all this week up until Saturday, which means I won't be able to post another update until then. I'm so sorry guys! Thanks for your continued support though. It means a lot. :]**

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><p>House was seated in the cafeteria when he first received word of his new letter from Cuddy. A guard approached him and told him that he had a letter waiting for him inside his cell. Anxious to read what Cuddy had to say, he finished the last of his spaghetti, or what appeared to be spaghetti, and was escorted back to the confines of his cell.<p>

As sure as the guard had spoken, on his bed lay an envelope addressed to one Gregory House. His fingers tore at the envelope and ripped the letter out, almost as if he were a lifeguard rescuing a drowning swimmer. He wanted the letter out of that envelope, and he wanted it out immediately.

_House,_

_I'm a little surprised you wrote back. Thanks though. It's really good to hear from you. By the way, I'm not surprised your smartassery caught up with you. I do hate that you got beat up though...Rachel is doing fine. I still catch her watching that stupid pirate cartoon, no thanks to you._

_How are you doing? How are you feeling? I don't mean to sound like another therapist, but I really do care about you. I just want to make sure you're okay. After all, it is my fault you're in there. Write back soon._

_Cuddy_

His mind immediately began processing the differences between her first and second letter. Firstly, the first letter had been signed as "Lisa," where the second had been signed as "Cuddy." He smiled at that fact. She would always be "Cuddy" to him. Second on the list of differences was the tone. She seemed to be more forward about wanting to know his feelings, his thoughts. She wanted to get inside his mind and try to understand what he was going through. The best part of it all was that she was genuine in her attempt to do so.

Finally, the one thing that stuck out the most, the one sentence that burned him was the string of words that pinned the blame on her. She was right in some ways, wrong in others. Yes, she did basically force him to turn himself in. But it wasn't her fault that he ran his car through her house in the first place. He would never let her take all of the blame. Before, he would willingly throw the blame on others; why would he want to pin himself with that responsibility? Now, on the other hand, he began to see that he was responsible for his own actions. No one forced him to drive through her house. What choked him up the most was that he did that entirely on his own. The event opened his eyes to who he truly was.

House stood abruptly and paced his cell in critical thought. What could he tell Cuddy?

Several possibilities came to mind, but he decided against all but one option for now. He would tell about his meetings with Phillip, give her little details as to what exactly he had decided to reveal to the psychologist. He would tell her that not everything about their relationship was meant to be shared, but kept private for the sake of his memories.

She deserved to know.

Now that he had his topic set in stone, how he would approach it and put it into words became the new challenge. This was something that he had always struggled with. He couldn't ever be frank about his feelings, especially not with Cuddy. Everyone around him knew that the woman was the love of his life, yet she was the hardest to open up to. As he paced aimlessly around his cell, though, he decided that he would try to be more open with her. He had no guarantee that he would be able to pull it off, but at this point, it was worth a try. House knew that he had to do whatever he could to repair the damage between Cuddy and himself. She would appreciate him opening up even the slightest bit.

In those few moments, House truly felt the meaning of selflessness. He was opening up, pushing out of his shell if only for just a few moments just to satisfy her. It was difficult, maybe even slightly painful for him, but he knew that was what she wanted.

Perhaps it was a lost cause, but he had to try.

Finally, he sat back on his bed and pulled out the blank paper she had included. He worked slowly and carefully, almost like he was performing a major surgery. He was that determined not to screw up and kill whatever was left of his friendship with Cuddy.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Late one night, several days after House mailed his second letter, Cuddy sat in Rachel's room, watching her daughter sleep peacefully. Cuddy was positioned on the floor, leaning up against the couch. She'd received House's letter in the mail earlier that day but had been so busy with her little girl that she hadn't had any time to read it. Now that she finally found peace and silence, she pulled the letter from the envelope.

_Cuddy,_

_I missed the season finale since I'm in here. Ask Rachel how it went._

_I've opened up a couple times to the psychologist. It's okay to be shocked at that because I am too. But at the same time, I don't feel like he deserves to know everything. Just because he's certified and has a degree in psychology doesn't mean he can pry into every corner of my life. There are some things I want to stay between you and me. He doesn't need to know how you really made me feel. At times, I'm convinced that even you never truly knew. But I guess none of that matters now, right?_

_House_

Cuddy read the letter several more times before his words were soaked into her mind. She blinked a few times and read the letter again. The next thing she did surprised her the most. Without even realizing it at first, she broke down into sobs.

The letter didn't necessarily make her _sad,_ it made her _regretful._ He was right. She didn't ever really know how much she meant to him. They never talked about it. Now more than ever, she wanted to know.

"Momma?" Her daughter's drowsy voice broke her train of thoughts.

She looked over to Rachel and stood quickly, "I thought you were asleep."

Rachel yawned and motioned for her mother. "I was. But I heard you crying. What's wrong, Momma?"

Cuddy walked over to where she was laying and picked her up, one hand absentmindedly stroking her daughter's soft brown hair. "Nothing's wrong, baby. Just try to go back to sleep."

"Are you sure?"

Chuckling once, Cuddy smiled at Rachel. Even at a young age, she was quite sensitive to her mother's feelings. Cuddy admired that. "I'm fine, Rachel."

"I love you, Momma."

"I love you too."

Cuddy lay her daughter back down, grabbed House's letter, then walked slowly and drowsily to her own room.

_But I guess none of that matters now, right?_ His words on the page replayed through her mind again and again.

She shook her head once and crawled into her bed. _Of course it matters._


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm back! While I was away, I was able to brainstorm, and I've got some ideas for this story. Can't wait to share them with all of you! Thanks for reading!**

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><p><em>House,<em>

_I am not asking my daughter about that stupid cartoon. Case closed._

_Of course it matters. Tell me what you want me to know. I'm listening. I want to know what you're feeling. If you won't tell the psychologist, you might as well tell me. If you think I never knew, then enlighten me. Say whatever you want to me, just let it out. Please. I need to hear it. So much between us is still left unsettled, and you know that just as well as I do. I don't want you to tell some psychologist about us, I want you to tell me. It's okay, I won't judge you for what you have to say. If anything, it'll allow me to make more sense of it all. Think about it and write back._

_Cuddy_

House's icy gaze shifted from the words on the page to the blank wall on the opposite side of his cell. He sat, contemplating. Would he just deflect more, run away from the conversation all together? Or would he actually tell her. He figured he owed it to her, and the way he could tell the words she wrote were begging him to open up left him without much of a choice.

A sigh slipped roughly through his parted lips. She was being pushy, but she had a damn good reason. She was the one that kept insisting that the two of them have their "fight." Cuddy deserved to get her answers.

He settled down on his bed and got in position to write. This was strictly from the heart. He struggled with the opening words, as well as the rest of the letter. Several times, he scratched out whole sentences and threw away entire sheets of paper. Luckily, she sent several sheets this time. Again, he admired her being her usual prepared herself.

When he finally believed that his letter was satisfactory, he gave it to the guard to mail. The guard knew House was in jail because of what he'd done to a woman named Lisa Cuddy. He saw who the letter was addressed to, and found it a bit odd; however, he didn't ask questions.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

When Cuddy first read the letter from House, she was sitting in her office. The magnitude of his words struck her. She rested her head in the palms of her hands, still overcome by what she had just read.

She was still lost within her own thoughts until Wilson knocked on her door.

She raised her head and rolled her eyes, "Sorry, I'm a little...out of it."

Wilson's face showed clear concern and he demanded to know what was wrong with his friend, "Cuddy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"You're crying."

"What the hell? No I'm not," She spat defensively, wiping her eyes and nose.

"Yes, you are."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "Damnit, I know."

"You want to explain why?"

"Not really."

Wilson sighed, expectantly waiting for her to stop deflecting.

"It's House. I've been writing letters to him," She admitted. Before he could get a word in, she immediately explained herself, "It's been good...for both of us."

"You sure look like it's helped," He retorted.

Cuddy shook her head and looked down at the letter on her desk, "It has. He just...he actually opened up in this letter. It got to me, that's all."

Wilson nodded, "Well, I just dropped in to see if you wanted to grab lunch?"

"No, you go ahead, Wilson. I've got some things to finish up."

"Alright." With that, he left without another word.

Cuddy's gaze travelled to the letter as she read it again, soaking in every word.

_Cuddy,_

_I don't know if I should tell you. But I figure I owe it to you. And I know that if I don't tell you, you'll attack me with hundreds of letters until I do. So here it is: I often wonder where we'll go from here. I wish we'd never even gotten to this point. If I hadn't been such a coward, I'd still have you. I just hope someday, you'll remember what we had and you'll be able to look back on all the things I didn't screw up. I wasn't the perfect father figure for Rachel, and I obviously wasn't the best man for you but I tried to be. I wanted to be the best because you were worth it. I finally got my chance with you after waiting for decades and I was determined to not screw it up. I truly loved you. Still do. We both ended up getting hurt. I wish it hadn't fallen apart the way it did. It's hard to believe I even had you to begin with. But it's a memory I'll hold onto for as long as I can...and there you have it. I could probably go on, but I don't really see a point._

_House_

Still mesmerized by the letter, Cuddy didn't even snap from her trance when the pharmacy rep called her.


	19. Chapter 19

Gregory House and Lisa Cuddy continued writing letters over the course of the next few months. Though they didn't repair everything, they managed to give it a good start. The two of them were both putting in an honest effort to try.

_House,_

_I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I was in no position to make that decision. I had just gone through surgery, I was still in shock about my condition...I don't know why I was under the impression that I could even begin to think rationally about the situation. For being careless and for not thinking about our relationship from every angle before making my decision to end it, I truly am sorry. I hope you'll forgive me. You're my oldest friend, House. I feel like we've been through just about everything. I just can't stand you being mad at me anymore. Yes, you have a huge right to feel the way you do, but don't I also have a chance for forgiveness?_

_Cuddy_

In her response to his last letter, Cuddy wanted to pour out her soul on the page, but she didn't know where to start, other than with an apology. She would start at the beginning of when their relationship began to fall apart: the break up. Though at the time she felt as if she was acting in the best interest of both her and her daughter, Lisa Cuddy knew that House was supposed to be the "love of her life." His self destructive behavior following the break up had only certified her decision as the right one, but she couldn't stop thinking about him. She believed that she'd given up too soon and that fact had led him to act recklessly. In this, she wanted to take the blame, but would House let her?

_Cuddy,_

_I forgave you a long time ago. You don't have to be sorry anymore. I'm sorry for what I did. I used your guilt to force you into so much, and then I drove a car through your house. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me. I'm sorry, Cuddy. I wish you could hear me say it; might make it mean a little more. I never wanted this to happen. Don't blame yourself anymore. I know that as soon as you read this, you'll go blaming yourself again. You don't listen. You're stubborn. It's who you are; there's no escaping it. I'm who I am, too, and I doubt that it'll ever drastically change. Perhaps some things will change, at least that's what I'm counting on. I know I at least have to try if I'm ever going to move forward from what's happened. I'm done being angry about what happened. You acted in the way you thought was best at the time. I can't blame you for that._

_House_

The two of them would never stop blaming themselves for everything that happened, Cuddy concluded. They would always be trying to lift the blame from each other, to lessen the burden. Neither of them wanted to see the other hurt, or fall. It would take a while for both of them to finally rest on the idea that they both acted wrongly.

_House,_

_It'll take some time to heal the damage we've done to each other, but when you get out, we can talk in person and catch up. I want to see you. I'll even pick you up from the jail if you want me to. Just let me know. I'm tired of the way things are between us. These letters were a good start, but I want to fully fix this in person if it's even possible at this point. I believe that it is, else I wouldn't be trying so hard. I know you're under of stress right now, and I don't mean to make it worse. So, write me back when you can._

_Cuddy_

He never wrote her back and that greatly troubled her.

At first, she was angry, and sorry that she had even tried to communicate with him in the first place. She felt abandoned, like everything they had said to one another in the letters simply meant nothing to him now.

Though, as she calmed down, she grew concerned. Certainly there was a reason as to why he never wrote back. She needed to know. Was the stress just too much? Did he just need time to himself? She didn't know, but more than anything, she wanted to find out. It stuck in her brain as if it were glued there. It was like an itch she couldn't scratch, and Lisa Cuddy couldn't stand it.

House had his reasons. It was nothing personal and it wasn't that the letters were becoming more deep than he'd ever anticipated. It was the fact that he only had a month left in prison and he was being presented with many decisions to be made. They were life altering decisions. Phillip still questioned him about his leg, his marriage to Dominica, his career...everything was on the table now and House had to make up his mind. Where would he go now? Where _could_ he go now?

House was at his best when he was practicing medicine, he knew that much. He knew that he had to get his license back and would try his best to make sure it happened. Gregory House couldn't imagine his world _without_ medicine. It was his forte in every possible way. He couldn't let that slip away from him.

The green card marriage would be annulled as soon as possible, he decided. He reflected on the whole idea and saw nothing but a stupid scheme to push Cuddy to the edge of jealousy. His crystal blue eyes couldn't help but roll as he recalled his juvenile behavior and how it affected those around him.

The question of his leg was the hardest to answer. He hadn't come to a decision yet. Every day, his leg sent him tremendous amounts of pain, and he was beginning to question if all the pain was worth it. He knew at this point that going back on Vicodin yet again was not even close to being an option for him. He had been down that road for quite some time, and he knew it wasn't the best for him. He was surprised that the excess amounts of Vicodin that he used to intake daily hadn't destroyed his liver yet. He was grateful for that fact, but ashamed that the drug had managed to destroy everything else in his life. He could have survived a liver transplant, but what was killing him was the fact that the drug had pushed his behavior to the edge and ultimately severed his closest relationships.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Even though weeks had passed since Cuddy had sent her last letter, she still held onto a glimmer of hope and ran out to her mailbox everyday only to return to her house in dismay. He hadn't written back, and at this point, she knew he wasn't going to. But she couldn't give up on him, not again. So she waited. When he was released, she nurtured a small slice of hope that he would find her.

She wasn't patient enough to wait forever though. One day, she had enough and called the jail.

"Hi, this is Lisa Cuddy. I was wondering when Gregory House is supposed to be released?"

The man on the other end of the phone was silent for a few moments then answered, "Ma'am, he was released five days ago."

Cuddy's breath caught in her throat and she felt sick. Regaining her composure, she thanked the man and hung up.

Determined to see him, she grabbed her keys from her kitchen counter and nearly sprinted to her car. A nervous feeling wailed in the pit of her stomach as she drove in the direction of his apartment, but she had to try. He was worth it. No matter how angry she could be with him, or how disappointed she was that he hadn't contacted her, she still continued toward his apartment. She _had_ to try...

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><p><em>Thanks so much for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated! :D<em>


	20. Chapter 20

Upon reaching his apartment, Cuddy noticed that his motorcycle was parked outside, but that his car was gone. She had no explanation for that, but continued to walk inside the building, still hopeful that he would be in his apartment.

When she reached his door, she brought her tiny fist to the door and knocked loudly. A few seconds passed and she tried again. No answer. Next, she tried the door knob...much to her surprise, the door was unlocked.

Cuddy pushed the door open and walked inside. She was alone...House wasn't here...but he had been. She walked into his bathroom and saw that his toothbrush, amongst other toiletries, was gone. Frantically, she sprinted into his bedroom. His closet door was open and at least two shirts were gone. His bed wasn't made and his pajama pants were sprawled on the floor.

Her eyes continued to dart around the room in an attempt to make sense of what she saw. Suddenly, she noticed a few papers laying on his nightstand. Her letters. Without really thinking, she walked towards the nightstand and grabbed the pile of papers. He had every single letter that she sent, even the one he didn't respond.

"Son of a bitch," She muttered, smiling absentmindedly. At least he had read it. In the beginning, she worried that he hadn't even received it, but he had.

Carefully, she returned the letters to their resting place and sat on the edge of his bed. Where the hell had he gone?

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

The morning Gregory House was released from prison, a guard knocked on the bars of his cell door, jarring him from his less than peaceful sleep. Willingly, he stood, allowed himself to be handcuffed, and followed the guard down the hallway. At the end of the hall, he saw Phillip Logan from the corner of his eye.

"House," Phillip addressed.

House nodded in acknowledgement. "Phillip."

Phillip knew that House was being released today and wished him the best. He didn't know the extent of House's pain, but he knew it was extreme. He hoped that someday in the future, House would be able to push it aside. It was a long shot, but Phillip still had hope.

From over a counter, another prison employee handed the guard House's clothes he was wearing on the night of his arrest. After leading him to a bathroom a few feet away from the counter, the guard removed his handcuffs, handed him his clothes, and told him to go get dressed.

It felt odd at first, being in real clothes instead of the hideous orange jumpsuit he'd been forced to wear for the past six months. As soon as he was fully dressed in his normal attire, he felt more alive, almost like the clothes represented his freedom from the burden he bore. The time he spent in jail had been miserable, whether he chose to admit to it or not. Now he was free to go, and he could hardly believe it was finally over.

After changing into his personal clothes, the guard led House to the prison exit and took care of the last few details of his release.

"Will you be needing an escort home, or will someone be picking you up?"

House's mind instantly drifted to Cuddy's proposal. In her last letter that he hadn't responded to, she'd offered to pick him up on the day of his release.

House shook his head, "No, I need an escort."

"Very well," the guard replied, and motioned for House to follow him.

Upon reaching his apartment, he walked into the dead silent room. Everything was exactly as he'd left it. He inhaled deeply and let his eyes adjust to his familiar surroundings. Finally, he was home, but he still had unfinished business to attend to.

The apartment held an eerie aura about it. The feeling of loneliness washed over him like never before. He was truly alone, and the silence was painful. It had never bothered him to this extent before, but now it was tearing him apart.

He limped slowly into his bedroom and tossed Cuddy's letters onto his nightstand. Sitting down on the bed, he found his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"House residence," The woman's voice echoed from the other line.

"Hi, mom," House said slowly into the receiver. "I need to see you."


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks for reading! :D**

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><p>Without much deliberation, House had decided to pack up and take a road trip to see his mother, Blythe. Ever since John House's funeral, the relationship between House and his mother had taken a few hits. At his father's funeral, his "speech" had disappointed his mother, and he never sincerely apologized. His mother was the one person he couldn't complain about, the one who unconditionally loved and cared for him throughout his entire life. House despised the way he'd left things, and was determined to fix it.<p>

As he stepped out of his car, he inhaled and exhaled deeply once, then limped up to her doorstep.

He ran the doorbell then stood back and waiting for his mother to answer the door. The door slowly opened, and his small mother emerged. She looked up at her son. He could see the way her eyes held a wince when she caught sight of how pained and miserable he was.

"Greg," She began, releasing her stare from his tortured eyes. "Come in."

He offered her a half smile then stepped through the door. His eyes glanced all around the room. Memories clouded his mind and he almost felt smothered by his childhood.

"So, what's with the sudden visit?"

House shrugged, "I realize it comes at a random moment, but can't a son visit his mother?"

Blythe sighed, "Normal sons, yes. Not you. What's going on? ...other than the fact that you just got out of prison? Greg, what were you thinking?"

"It's just gotten hard lately," He paused and tried to gather his words. "Everything that's ever bothered me swelled up like a boil that just won't go away."

"Like what?" She inquired, her concern for her son genuinely shining through her words.

"I started thinking about John-"

"Don't start blaming this on your father-" She attempted to interrupt.

"He's _not_ my father," He stated, his voice stone cold and his eyes flaming.

"Greg, don't you think you created a big enough scene about him at his own funeral-"

"You know what?" He started, interrupting her tirade. "Forget it. It seems once again that opening up to someone proved to be a mistake."

"Greg, I'm your mother," Blythe pleaded. "I'm not just someone."

He sighed, defeated, "I know."

"Then tell me what's wrong."

"It'd probably be easier to tell you what _isn't_ wrong...but, if you were me, what would you do about my leg?"

"That's what this is about?" She asked, surprised.

House shrugged, "Partly. I just need another opinion."

"Honestly, I don't know what you've put up with it as long as you have...are you considering amputation?"

House visibly struggled with his confession, "Yes. Yes, I am. But this is my _leg_ we're talking about, not getting a tooth pulled."

"This is your leg that causes you pain every day of your life," She reminded him.

"I can handle it though."

Blythe folded her arms across her chest and shook her head, "Doesn't appear that way."

"Things are always what they seem," House protested.

"Not in this case."

He shook his head, "I _can't_ cut it off. Think about how limited I would be."

"It would make the pain go away," His mother argued, in attempt to make her son see his situation from every angle.

"Not necessarily. What about phantom pain? Pretty sure that's _still_ pain."

Frustrated, Blythe paced along the hard wood floor. She threw her hands up, "What do you want me to say, Greg? You want me to tell you that you should go on living in pain and being miserable? You can blame a lot on your father if you want to. You turned out the way you did because of him, everything you said at the funeral...but this? This is not his fault. This stupidity is all your own."

House staggered at the force of her words. He stepped back and sank onto her couch.

"Greg?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

House shook his head, "It's not your fault." The familiar line stung his tongue. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, and it wouldn't be the last.

"I just hate seeing you in so much pain."

"I just feel...I feel like taking away my leg is like taking away a part of me," House explained.

"It's just a leg, son."

House titled his head to one side and objected, "And that's where we disagree. See, it's easy for you to say that: you have all the muscle in both of your legs...I don't."

"You could get a prosthetic," She offered.

"That's still not a leg."

"It's better than the mangled one you have now."

He sighed, "I just feel like I couldn't be..._whole._"

Blythe shook her head and sat down beside her son. She put her hand on his good leg, "There are many other things in this world that make you whole, Greg. A leg isn't one of them. It's your career, your relationships with people. Those are the things that make you whole."

"Or rip you to shreds," He retorted, reflecting on the past six months of his life.

"That's also possible," She agreed. "But as it turns out, you might find that even after breaking you apart, the relationships that truly matter put you back together. That's something a leg can't do. It can only hurt you."

House turned to look at her, "You sound so sure of that. What are you, some guru?"

"No, I'm your mother and I know what's good for you."

"Really?" He asked, sarcastically.

"Really," Her tone was dead serious. "Now, I'm assuming you didn't come here to argue, despite the past few minutes. You came here to find an answer. Well, let me give it to you. Get your leg amputated, Greg...then rebuild your life and your relationships. Do you trust me?"

He nodded in confirmation, but felt obligated to say it as well. "Of course I do."

"Then promise me you'll consider what I've said."

"I promise."

Blythe and Gregory House enjoyed a nice lunch together in silence. While his mother was doing dishes, House sat in deep thought. He needed to apologize even further.

"I...I want to apologize for the way I left things at John's funeral," House said suddenly.

Blythe put away the last dish and joined him on the couch. "I've never been so shocked in my life," She admitted. "I know you didn't like him, but was that really warranted?"

"In my mind, it was."

"He was your father!"

"Actually, he wasn't. DNA testing showed no match between John and I...but you of course already knew that," House explained, giving her an accusatory look.

Blythe shrugged, "Even so, he was your father figure."

House scoffed at her and shook his head, "A pretty crappy one at that. Seriously, what kind of 'father figure' slips notes to his son underneath a door and avoids talking to him directly for a whole summer?"

"I don't know," She admitted sadly. She knew her son was right.

"Exactly. I don't want to talk about him. I just want to apologize for the way I acted...it was inappropriate for a funeral."

Blythe smiled warmly at him, "Apology accepted."

"There are just so many things in my life that need fixing."

"Well, good for you for putting forth an effort."

House looked troubled, then shamefully admitted, "I'm not sure it'll matter but I guess it's worth a shot."

An expression of concern washed over his mother's face. "Greg, what happened to you in jail?"

He was silent for a few seconds, then answered, "I opened my eyes. I realized that I'll never really change if I just sit on my ass." He struggled, but managed to tell his mother the truth, "I've hurt everyone that's ever been close to me. Do you know what it's like to live with that? I never thought it would bother me, but I did something horrible that landed me in jail...that's when it truly began to eat away at me."

"James called once and explained what happened?"

"He did?" House wasn't too surprised that Wilson had called.

"Yes."

"Of course," He spat, his eyes rolling. "He meddles into everyone's life and tries to make it better unless it's his own. Then he deals with being miserable."

"He's a true friend," Blythe concluded.

"Why? Because he'll choose the happiness of others over his own level of contentment? No, he's an idiot."

She looked at him with sad, disappointed eyes.

House noticed the mood shift on her face and immediately felt ashamed of himself. "He is a good friend. I've taken for granted our friendship for so long..._too_ long. That's another thing I _have_ to fix. I need him in my life."

Blythe nodded in understanding. "And what about Lisa?" She pressed.

"She..." He began, smiling slightly. "She's such a pain in the ass, but she's gotten me out of so much trouble that I've brought upon myself...How could I ever repay her for everything?"

"I remember the first time you ever talked about her," Blythe commented, nudging her son. "When you were in med school, you told me about a young woman interested in endocrinology. You didn't want to admit too much to me, so you praised her intelligence and nothing more." House's mother smiled, a chuckled at the memory of her lovesick son. "I knew she meant something to you, and it wasn't just her mind that you admired." House's face flushed red. "You couldn't fool me then, Greg, and you can't fool me now."

His face suddenly saddened, "Yeah. Well, add that to my list of things I screwed up."

"The two of you met up again at Princeton-Plainsboro-"

"No one else would hire me. Cuddy was doing me a favor," House cut in.

"No, this was all connected by fate."

House rolled his eyes and slumped back on the couch, covering his face with his hands, "Oh God, mom. Please, don't start with this."

"Don't you think that maybe the reason your paths keep crossing is because Lisa Cuddy is supposed to be in your life?"

House shook his head grimly, "Doesn't matter now."

"That's where you're wrong. You can't just give up because you messed up one time."

"It wasn't just one time," He corrected. "I've screwed her over so many times and she's just given me more chances. This time I massively screwed her over and everything came to a point."

"Yet she dropped most all the charges against you," Blythe reminded him.

"She was being nice, oddly enough."

"I know you don't truly believe your friendship with her is over, and with James too."

"It doesn't matter what I believe," House explained, "The facts matter."

"Would you stop with the negativity?" Her sudden outburst of frustration surprised him. "_Especially _when you know better?"

House sighed, "...You're right. I just don't deserve the compassion I've been receiving from everyone."

"You need to talk to them," Blythe stated solemnly.

House shook his head in disagreement, "Not now. I'm not done fixing my life yet. When I see them again, I want to be better."

She smiled and rested an old hand on her son's shoulder, "Take as much time as you need; I'm sure they'll understand."

"A man can hope, right?"


	22. Chapter 22

Over the course of the next few weeks, House had been staying with his mother. He had no desire to return to Princeton just yet. Instead, he was working on patching things up with his mother even further. They discussed his leg a few more times. At first, her son was defensive, but after a while, he began to really value their discussions of his options.

Though he was paying attention to his mother and carefully thinking about the future of his leg, House began to realize his fears. Without his leg, so many aspects of his life would change. No longer would he feel whole in the eyes of others, and in his own eyes. He would be limited, even with a prosthetic. He would be ashamed to show it off to anyone who got close enough to see. What would a future partner think? What would Wilson or Cuddy think? Thousands of questions burned through his mind. The more he thought about it, the more questions appeared, and the more afraid he became.

One night at dinner, he shook his head and set down his fork, "I can't do it."

"Do what, son?" Blythe asked, cocking her head to the side expectantly.

"The amputation. I can't."

Blythe wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and swallowed nervously. "It's your choice, and yours alone."

"I just...I just won't feel like _me._"

"You're afraid," She accused. There was no trace of a question in her tone.

He nodded, afraid to actually say the words out loud.

"That's normal."

House shook his head, "I just wish I didn't have to make the decision, because I'll have no one to blame but myself. I realize that the smarter choice was amputation, but I couldn't. I couldn't back then, what makes you think I could now?"

"Because you've lived with it for so long now, you've _seen_ how it has affected your life...I won't tell you what to do, Greg. I've told you that before, but I want whatever is best for you."

House sighed sadly and stood from the table, "I'm leaving."

Blythe jumped up and stood in front of him, "Where are you going?"

"Back to my apartment," House lied. He was actually planning on staying away from Princeton for a while. He figured he would settle elsewhere for a while, get a job and try to think clearly.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay until morning?"

"Yep," He replied, shortly. He gathered his things and walked out to his car. "Thanks, mom. I'll keep in touch."

"Greg, I wish you wouldn't do this. It's late."

"If I get tired, I'll pull over," He assured her. He limped up to her doorstep and gave his mother a stiff hug. "Don't worry about me."

With that, House was gone. He didn't keep in touch.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Months passed. House returned to Princeton long enough to have his medical board hearing. He was granted his medical license. After his hearing, he fled the area before anyone from his past could track him down.

He often wondered if his attempt to get away would be in vain. Would he actually succeed in his attempt to reconstruct his life? He had no intention of staying away forever, but when he returned, he needed to show everyone that he had made an honest attempt to get better.

The issue of his leg was recurring. Every day, he deliberated more and more. From a sexual standpoint, would taking away his leg take away part of what made him a real, controlling man? From a working standpoint, would missing part of a limb make him feel awkward amongst his colleagues? Every question was forced into play.

Day and night, Greg House deliberated. In the end, he knew that he wouldn't choose amputation. He couldn't do it, not on his own at least. His mother's support was one thing, but ultimately, he found that it wasn't enough to convince him to go through with it.

He began to work in a local hospital. It wasn't like Princeton-Plainsboro...it certainly wasn't managed as well. The more time he spent here, the more he missed his former job. Here, at this hospital, he didn't have his own department, he didn't have a forgiving boss, he wasn't special. Here, he was just Dr. House. Naturally, everyone employed here knew of him and respected his intelligence, but they weren't as accepting of him as he had hoped, especially due to their knowledge of his time in prison.

He worked in the clinic mostly. Oh, if Lisa Cuddy could see him now. Here he sat, working as just a general practitioner in the clinic. After avoiding so many clinic hours at PPTH, this was his temporary reality.

Donned in his mandatory white lab coat, House limped into one of the examination rooms to find a young woman staring nervously at the door.

House mentally rolled his eyes then put on a fake smile. Taking his seat, he snapped on his latex gloves and addressed her, "Good afternoon, I'm Dr. House. What seems to be the problem?" His mock sincerity was bleeding into the atmosphere.

"I've been having abdominal cramps for a few days and I don't know what's wrong," She explained, her hands instantly cradling her abdomen.

"Have you ever considered that you're a woman who certainly has started her period by now?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, generally when a girl becomes of age, she'll start bleeding from-"

"I know that," She interrupted, angrily.

House pretended to be surprised, "Oh. Alright. Well, then, since we've established the gateway to womanhood, when was your last period?"

"I don't feel comfortable telling you that."

"No one generally does, but seeing as I'm a doctor, I think it would be best if we cut the crap and step out of our comfort zone," House spat.

"It was five weeks ago..."

"So you're overdue for a visit from Mother Nature." House paused, "Are you a virgin?"

"No...what are you trying to say?"

House rolled his eyes, "I'm trying to tell you to go to a gynecologist. You're probably pregnant and are just too stupid to realize it."

"Excuse me, but I don't like your tone."

"And I don't like you."

Appalled at his behavior, she stood abruptly and declared that she was filing a complaint.

"Go right ahead, but it won't matter much when you go to a lady doctor and she tells you that you're pregnant," House challenged.

Nervously, the young woman struggled for a comeback, but failed. House had her beat. It was like taking candy from a baby. House sat back in his chair, pleased with himself.

Later that day, he was called to his boss's office as a result of his "patient abuse" in the clinic earlier.

His new boss was Dr. Allison Dooley. She was around House's age, tall, thin, and attractive. She had dirty blond hair (though House guessed it wasn't her natural color), olive green eyes, and a thin face. Though an attractive woman she was, she was nothing compared to Lisa Cuddy. Cuddy had her beat in every area.

Allison Dooley was purely professional. She never let her guard down, and she rarely cracked a smile. She was too stiff, House reasoned. It annoyed him.

"Dr. House, I'm assuming you know why you're here?" She asked, not even bothering to look up from the paper she was reading on her desk.

"Not really."

Then she looked up and stared at him square in the eyes, "You were verbally harassing a patient-"

"Dooley, Dooley, _Dooley,_" He jeered. "You don't have any proof of that. And people's opinions of what is or what isn't considered harassment are different."

"You called her stupid!"

"Because she was acting stupidly! Would you rather me lie?" House sighed, "I did my job, Dooley. I told her she was pregnant because she is."

"That doesn't erase the fact that you called her stupid."

"So? All she did was file a complaint and have me sentenced to getting yelled at by you. That's not scary at all," He explained, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

"Listen to me, Dr. House, I don't know who you _think_ you are, or what you're _used_ to, but in my hospital, we have a standard to uphold," Dooley lowered her voice and pointed a finger at him. "And you _will_ do your job correctly without being such a sarcastic ass, do you hear me?"

A smile spread across his face and he shook his head, "Are you like this in bed too? Always so controlling and brutal?"

"Dr. House! That's highly inappropriate."

"It's a legitimate question," He argued.

"I don't know what your former boss let you get away with, and frankly, I don't want to know, but it won't work for you here," Dooley warned, gravely. "I'll fire you."

House shrugged, "That supposed to scare me?"

"Get out of my office. I swear to God...make one more sexual comment towards me, and I will have you thrown out of my hospital on your ass."

Taking Dooley's threat with a grain of salt, he limped out of her office with a smirk lighting up his face.

It was moments like this when he truly appreciated Lisa Cuddy. At least she had a sense of humor. This woman...House wondered if she even had a soul, or if she killed innocent little woodland animals in her basement at her house. He was convinced she was evil, and she certainly didn't make an effort to prove otherwise.

As of that day, he made it a mission to annoy the hell out of Allison Dooley until the day he decided to return to Princeton. It wouldn't be hard, and he knew she'd never be able to handle him the way Cuddy had.


	23. Chapter 23

**This update isn't long at all, and I apologize for that. It's basically just a buffer update before the next chapter. The next chapter and the chapters to come will be better, I promise. I already have most of them written, and I can't wait to share them with you all. Thanks for reading!**

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><p>Aside from his "exciting" yet thankfully temporary job, House found time for weekly psychiatrist visits and appointments for physical therapy for his leg. He had virtually no spare time, but he found that he didn't mind. If he was kept busy, it took his mind off the pain in his leg.<p>

The physical therapy sessions were absolutely brutal at first. His pain reached new heights, though after a while, the pain subsided and he noticed a slight improvement. Anything was better than nothing at all.

Many times, he considered giving up because the pain was so immense. But he knew he had to continue. He was genuinely motivated; seeing this through the end was suddenly more important to him than he ever thought imaginable.

One morning, he slowly limped through the hospital and spotted Allison Dooley signing charts at the nurse station.

"Your top doesn't match your skirt," He pointed out, bluntly.

She looked up from the chart and squinted her eyes at him, "And your shoes don't match your suit. Your point?"

House shrugged, "Didn't really have one. Just thought I'd let you know that they didn't match. I figured a woman in your profession would always want to look her best in the hope to catch the eyes of man and win over his approval. Let's face it: you're not really here for the money anymore, are you?"

"That's none of your business, Dr. House, and it certainly isn't appropriate subject matter between co-workers." Her tone was calm, smooth, but House knew he was about to send her into a raging fit.

"You want someone to come home to that will give you whatever you want," He continued. "Seems to me that you're almost desperate, because there's a reason your suit doesn't match. In a hurry, you grabbed the wrong clothes, fled to your secret lover's house, and realized when you were nearly late for work that 'Damn, in my desire for a lustful evening, I grabbed a mismatched suit.'" He paused and cleared his throat, smirking slightly, "Tell me any of that isn't true, Dooley."

Her face turned bright red, and her face quickly morphed and held an expression of pure hatred, "You're fired."

House shook his head, "No, no, no, there's no need for that."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I turned in my resignation already. I quit. You're a lonesome bitch, and I'm going home," He announced.

"Good luck finding a job. You'll need a recommendation, and you sure as _hell_ will not receive one from me," She thought she had the upperhand in their argument.

"Actually, where I'm going...no, I won't need a recommendation. I know the boss _very_ well."

He rendered Dooley speechless, but he wasn't done. "Dooley...no response at all? You make this too easy for me."

Without another word out of either of them, he turned around and limped out of the hospital feeling accomplished.

His decision to quit had come at quite a random time, but he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that now was the best time. He was ready to return to Princeton and return to the life he'd left behind.

House wasn't sure what would happen, or if he'd even be accepted in Princeton anymore. He hadn't responded to Cuddy's letter, hadn't even tried to contact Wilson, and God only knew what was going on with his team. He knew Cuddy's course of action. She had put Foreman in charge. That got under House's skin more than he expected it to.

House packed his things in silence, checked out of his hotel, and hit the road. In a few hours, he would be back where he belonged, with the people he somehow belonged with. He had high expectations regarding his return...would he be proven wrong?


	24. Chapter 24

Two years after being arrested, Gregory House finally returned to Princeton. After he'd been released from jail, he spent a year and a half away from Princeton. He wanted a chance to get his life back together. His goal was to become less miserable, but he couldn't do it alone. His time away from the life he once knew didn't change him completely, but it helped him put together a less miserable life. He was still the cynical bastard he'd always been, but he was still different in some ways. He valued things he had never valued before, he saw things from new angles that he'd never considered. With the help of a psychiatrist and physical therapist, he found that his life was more positive, but he still had a long way to go. First on the list was fixing the shattered relationships he had with Wilson and Cuddy. They were top priority now.

James Wilson kept true to his word and never visited House while he was in jail. Over time, he had learned to forgive his friend for what he'd done, but that day burned forever in his mind. He admired House for attempting to change, and that ultimately had propelled his decision to forgive him. Both he and House knew that they had to fix the way they had left their friendship, and both of them fully intended to do so whenever House came back.

Lisa Cuddy had pushed her life forward, but she never moved on from House. At this point, she knew it was impossible. She had gone on a few dates every now and then, but always came to the same realization that these men weren't House, and they never would be. She worked hard at her job at the hospital, and hard at her job as being the single mother of Rachel, who was now five years old. At first, the little girl asked about House often, but now rarely mentioned him, though she never forgot him. Neither did her mother. Cuddy thought about House all the time, and wondered how he was doing since he'd been released from jail. She hadn't heard anything from him, but she didn't take it personally. She knew that he was putting his life back together, and he didn't need any interference from her, but that didn't make being without him any easier for her.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

One day at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Cuddy received word form a nurse that she had a visitor waiting for her in her office.

As she swung open the door, there stood Greg House, the last person she ever expected to see again. He was dressed in a black suit with his usual blue shirt and t-shirt underneath his suit jacket. He still wore the same classic tennis shoes. However, something was different.

Just seeing him again consumed her. There he was, in the flesh, standing in her office just like he used to. It was almost as if he had never even left. Seeing him again...it was rejuvenating. She felt herself come alive again as her eyes followed his pacing figure.

"You're overly ambitious," He began, looking around at the diplomas displayed on her wall. "You have a chip on your shoulder, and you know how to party." House paused once more and looked her over, yet didn't change his expression. "Your work schedule is over loaded, you never take a day off, and no one takes the job of Dean of Medicine unless they have something to prove."

He stopped pacing, and turned to face her for the first time in two years. She was every bit the same as he had remembered. Her dark hair still fell elegantly down past her shoulders, and her wardrobe hadn't changed. She still looked as professional and sexy as he remembered.

She snapped from her stunned trance and tossed a patient file onto her desk, "H-house," She stammered, almost too shocked to continue talking. "How...how are you? ...you never wrote me back."

House smiled warmly, "I'm alright. And I didn't write back because I was going through something major...I was just caught up in it...needed time to think. I'm sorry."

She looked him over once and noted at how much he'd changed. His face looked softer, less miserable, though she could still see the pain in his eyes. "Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head, "Not entirely...you can't always get what you want," He said, memorizing every feature of her face. She still looked as gorgeous as she had the last time he had seen her.

"Ah, so you're still quoting that Jagger guy, hmm?"

"Hey, he's a philosophical guy," House looked down at the floor then back at her. "You can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need. This was something I needed."

Cuddy smiled at the Rolling Stones reference. She hadn't even been able to listen to them since things fell apart between her and House. The reference made her feel genuinely well, and it was now that she realized how much she truly missed him.

House looked at his watch, "How about we go to lunch?"

"I'd like that," She agreed. "Maybe we could catch up."

"Does that include sex?"

Cuddy put her hand on his shoulder, "Mmm, I'm afraid not...can't always get what you want."

"Damn, I thought for sure you'd be up for that, unless you're married or something. And if you're not...then surely a little stress relief would be something you _need._"

She shook her head, "Nope. Still single."

The look in his eyes told her that that fact pleased him, "You must be _horribly _out of practice."

"You won't have the pleasure of finding out."

"Have you decided to lift the ban on alcohol in the hospital cafeteria?" He asked, clearly on to something.

"No," She answered slowly, wondering what he could possibly be up to.

"Then we're going somewhere else for lunch. I'm still hoping that I can get you drunk and score."

Cuddy stood now inches away from him and hugged him lightly, "It's good to see you again."

House smiled and returned her embrace, "Good to see you too, Cuddy."

The two decided on the hospital cafeteria after all and sat across from each other in silence.

Cuddy swallowed the remainder of her salad and shook her head, "I just can't believe you're here."

House smiled and took a sip of his coffee, "Yeah, it's weird being back here."

"So, how have you been?" She asked, attempting a real conversation with him.

"I've been fine. I got my green card marriage taken care of, so now all that mess is over," He explained. "I just quit my job at another hospital. My boss was an annoying bitch, more annoying than you, so I figured I shouldn't stay."

"More annoying than me? Damn, you sure did screw yourself over," Cuddy remarked.

"Her ass wasn't as big either...and she didn't do well with my comments at her. She threatened to charge me with sexual harassment."

"Sounds like I wasn't so bad then, huh?"

House nodded, "You were, but I'd take it all back in second. At least you have a sense of humor. But anyway, enough about my life, what about you? How's Rachel?"

"Well," Cuddy began. "She's five years old now. We just left the 'why?' stage and now we're entering the kindergarten romance era."

"Already driving the little boys' hormones crazy?"

Cuddy smiled to herself, "Yeah. I just hope she has better luck than I did." She pursed her lips nervously, then changed the direction of the conversation, "She asked about you a lot during the first few months after you were arrested. It was hard, knowing that I was responsible for putting one of my oldest friends in jail."

"It wasn't your fault," He disagreed. "I drove through your house."

She shrugged, "But I didn't give you much of a chance; either you turned yourself in, or I was going to."

"You can think what you want, but I view it as a favor."

"I still feel bad. I regretted it, but I knew it was the best thing for you...I think I regretted everything leading up to it even more. There are a lot of things that I've done that I wish I could take back," Cuddy admitted, sitting back in the booth.

House nodded, briefly recalling taking the Vicodin when he found out that Cuddy could possibly have cancer, "Me too. We all have regrets...but you have to move forward. Holding it all in just makes you even more miserable."

"You're right, as usual," She said, playfully rolling her eyes at him. His comment surprised her. Before, he was all for holding everything in, and now he was admitting to her that it wasn't the best choice.

He smiled and let the silence settle over them, blanketing the air around them in a serenity that neither of them had experienced in nearly three years. The last time the two of them felt this at ease with one another, was the morning after the crane collapsed in downtown Trenton...the beginning of their relationship. The two of them had almost forgotten what feeling this type of calm felt like.

"So now what?" House asked, shattering the silence.

Cuddy grinned, mentally noting that he had asked her that question before. She reminisced on the good days before everything had crashed and burned. "Well," She started. "I have a day off tomorrow and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. _You_ have a day off?"

Her cheeks flushed red and she shrugged, "I know, it's a shocker. But as I was saying, since I decided to take a day off-"

"Since your spine broke and you decided to take a day off," House interrupted again, correcting her.

"_Since my spine broke and I decided to take a day off, _maybe we could plan to get together, catch up more. I mean, my lunch break will be over soon, we still have a lot to talk about, but I have a hospital to satisfy," Cuddy suggested.

"Your outfit is plenty satisfying, surely they can't be expecting you to actually do your job too," House mocked, his eyes drifting to her low cut top. "That's just being selfish."

"My breasts only satisfy the male population. Unfortunately, I have female staff members too."

House sighed, "Damn, what a shame."

Cuddy held his gaze for a few moments, then chuckled lightly to herself, causing a smile to grace House's face.

Cuddy's obnoxiously loud ringtone broke the silence and she stood abruptly. "I gotta go, House. But I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Meet me at Bradley Beach at three o'clock."


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks for reading!**

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><p>After Cuddy had left him in the cafeteria, House payed for his food, and decided to take a stroll around the hospital. On his way out of the cafeteria, he came face to face with Wilson. Stunned expressions took over both of their faces and they stood in silence facing each other.<p>

Wilson looked him over once and noticed the same things that Cuddy did. Something was different about his old friend and he appeared to be in a better frame of mind. His eyes still looked tortured, but it was as if the degree of his pain was lessened slightly. Wilson could only imagine what House had been through since his release. Part of him wanted to ask, wanted to pry into House's head, but the other part of him remembered how guarded his friend was. He refrained from saying a word.

"I...I'm sorry," House began, breaking the sheet of silence over them.

Wilson looked into House's eyes and could see how genuine he was when he made his apology. He nodded, "I know."

"I could have killed you, and I never meant for that to happen," House continued. "I've been an idiot."

"Yes, you have."

"It's a lot to ask, but I was hoping you could forgive me," He said, shrugging. "I'll understand if you don't."

Wilson shook his head, "More than likely against my better judgment, I already have."

His comment stung House but he was grateful that Wilson had even forgiven him in the first place. He knew he probably didn't deserve even the slightest bit of forgiveness from anyone in his life, though he would cherish it.

He had taken advantage of their friendship for so long, and now he regretted it.

"Wilson, I'm not just sorry about what happened two years ago."

"Oh?" Wilson asked, suddenly curious.

"I'm sorry for everything...I haven't been a very good friend to you, and you've never given up on me even when you should have. In fact, you're an idiot for sticking with me, but I'm glad you did. I owe a lot to you, Wilson," House said, his eyes shifting away from him in shame.

Wilson was shocked at the words coming out of his friend's mouth. He ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief, then rubbed his forehead, still processing it all. "House," Wilson started. "I'm proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because it's obvious that you've changed."

House shrugged, "I tried. For the longest time, I held the belief that people didn't change, but then when I actually tried...I knew I had been wrong all this time."

"Are you sure this isn't some act?" Wilson asked.

House shook his head. He had made an honest attempt to turn his life around. Though he had fallen so much in the process, he did notice a genuine difference in his life, and he hoped that others around him would be able to see it as well.

"Then I really am proud of you...no games, no bets...just you being genuine. I'll be honest and tell you that I never saw this coming, but I'm glad this has finally happened."

"I guess it just took one final straw before I finally realized how wrong I've been about nearly everything," House admitted. He shook his head a few times, ashamed of himself.

"It's okay to be wrong. The difference is accepting that you're wrong and moving forward," Wilson offered, attempting to console his friend. He could clearly see that House was ashamed of what he had done, and still struggling, even now. Wilson intended to offer him his support in whatever way he could.

House didn't respond.

"So, where have you been?"

"Around. Actually, I've been pretty far away from Princeton," He explained. "I had to get my life together."

"Understandable...so are you coming back?"

"I don't know," He answered honestly. "I'll have to talk to Cuddy about that, but only when the time is right. Right now, my main goal is cleaning up my mess. Speaking of, how's my old department doing?"

Wilson shrugged, "They've been good. Foreman's in charge. They're treating patients more 'by the book' now, but it still isn't the same. They all know that, too." He stopped and grabbed a water bottle from the counter. "They asked me where you were quite often, but I never could give them an answer. You just...you just fell off the face of the earth, House."

"I know, but I had to."

"They understand that...I think everyone understands that. No one is mad because you stayed away for a year and a half without even a hint of a warning...if anything, I think people are shocked yet pleased by your effort," Wilson paused to pay for his water. "Everyone knows how much you needed this."

"Foreman shouldn't be in charge," House said suddenly.

"Why not?" Came a voice from behind. Foreman himself, along with Taub, Chase, and Thirteen stood before him.

They all stood in silence, shocked at their old boss's random arrival. All of them knew what he had done to Wilson and Cuddy, yet to them, he was still House. Each of them had an odd sense of respect for him, most likely streaming from his insane intelligence. He wasn't always ethical about it, but Greg House knew how to do his job.

"Foreman," House acknowledged. He turned his attention to the rest of the team, "Everyone."

"It's good to see you," Thirteen spoke up. Her Huntington's hadn't started taking its toll on her yet, from what House could see. He remembered his offer to her, when the time came, and fully intended on holding up his end.

He was grateful for Thirteen. She had been his supporter from the beginning. Perhaps it was because she saw herself within him. She stacked the parallels up and gained a whole new respect for House. The two of them weren't so different after all.

House nodded, but didn't say a word.

"You didn't answer my question," Foreman reminded him with a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

"I don't have an answer you'd agree with," House answered, shrugging. "No point in arguing an argument you know you'll lose."

"Wow, you have changed."

"I meant you," House corrected. "_You_ would lose. Not me."

Foreman shook his head, fully smiling now. Despite all the disagreements between the two of them, Foreman was genuinely glad to see House standing in front of him, alive. He predicted that House would be dead from an overdose, or as a result from a bar fight. Foreman was relieved that his prediction had been wrong.

"House," Wilson said, redirecting his friend's attention away from his former team. "It's good to see you."

House knew their conversation was far from over, but he saw the look of forgiveness in his friend's eyes. He offered a nod in his direction. As Wilson turned to walk away, House called out, "Wait!" He lowered his voice so the team couldn't hear him, "Thank you."

Wilson offered him a close-lipped smile, then walked away.

When House turned to speak to the team again, they too were gone.

There he stood, alone. His eyes graced the cafeteria. Other employees were also stunned to see him in the hospital again. But as his icy gaze met each of their eyes, they turned away and continued to eat their lunches. With that, he turned and left the cafeteria.

The walls around him held so many memories of the life he missed. He shook his head, clearing his head of them. He walked across the room and through the glass doors of the clinic. Cuddy was standing by the counter, pulling her white lab coat over her shoulders. Her face was twisted into a determined expression. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her lips were pressed together tightly. She was in a hurry.

Careful not to disturb her, he turned and left, anxiously awaiting to see her the next day.


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey everyone! **

**Updates may be coming at a slower rate because I have a huge band camp going on for the next few weeks. But I will try to update as much as I can!**

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><p>It was three o'clock the next day, and Lisa Cuddy met House at Bradley Beach just as she had agreed. Dressed in a low cut white long sleeve shirt, a light black jacket, dark blue jeans that hugged her legs, and black boots, she emerged from her car. After looking around for a few seconds, she placed her sunglasses comfortably on top of her head when she spotted House. He was seated at the bar yet he wasn't enjoying a beverage. He was simply waiting, dressed casually in a white t-shirt, a dark green button down, dark blue jeans, and a pair of sneakers.<p>

Cuddy offered him a smile and settled onto the bar stool next to him.

"Where's your phone?" House asked.

"In my pocket," She answered, confused.

"Is it on?"

"Of course."

He shook his head, "Turn it off, or either put it on silent."

"House," She pleaded.

"Nope. We've been through this once before, Cuddy. We have a lot to talk about and I don't want the hospital to interfere. This is too important," He explained.

She sighed and pulled out her phone. "Fine. It's on silent. Happy?"

"Happier...you want a drink?"

Cuddy shook her head, "No thanks. So...like you said, we have a lot to talk about."

"Right," He agreed. "So, during the last month or so of prison, I made many decisions about my life."

"I'm glad you were able to make those decisions...you seem happier."

"I'm happi_er._..but I've still got a long way to go before I'm content with my life."

"Oh?" Cuddy asked, suddenly curious.

House nodded, "I need to fix things that I just left broken...like my friendships, my career, my assets...but I'm not fixing any of that until I fix things with you."

"House, don't," Cuddy started. "We had that talk over two years ago. I forgave you for what you did."

"No," He objected. "You forgave me, but that didn't fix everything. Now that more time is passed, I want us to _really_ fix things, and talk...talk about what happened."

"I don't want to bring up the past...at least, not that part of it."

"We have to, Cuddy."

"Why can't we talk about the good things that happened?" She asked, trying to reason with him.

"We can...but we're talking about this first. Cuddy, you're the one that always wanted me to talk about all this important, emotional crap...now when I'm finally offering, you don't want me to. Make up your mind."

She shrugged, "I just thought that we got all the closure that we needed."

"Well maybe that's what you pretend to think, but I know you don't believe it…but I just want you to know that I'm sorry. Still. Not a day goes by that I don't think about what I did to you and Rachel. I was wrong. I let my twisted emotions take over and I ended up making the biggest mistake of my life."

Cuddy sighed, "I know you're sorry. But I was wrong too."

"Please, don't blame yourself," House pleaded. He was done playing the blame game. All he wanted was for everything to be settled.

"Why? I left you at your lowest…Looking back on it, I didn't even stop to consider that your fear of losing me had driven you to the Vicodin," Cuddy shook her head, disappointed in herself. "I just assumed you couldn't handle a crisis because you were too bottled up, and I gave up on you. And for that, I am truly sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. It's not your fault. I told you that."

"But it is. You don't think I'm even partially responsible?"

"You didn't do anything intentionally," House offered, shrugging. "You acted in a way that you believed was right for you and your daughter."

"I can't watch you take all the blame."

House shook his head in protest, "Well, better I take it all for once in my life."

"How about we agree to disagree?"

He locked his eyes with hers, almost as if he were trying to pierce through her very being, "You know that's never worked for us, Cuddy."

She did know. The two of them had always been a dysfunctional pair in any environment. They could barely ever agree on anything, and when they did, it was because one of them was usually holding back. Both House and Cuddy knew that no matter where the future took them, they would never be able to be a normal pair.

"Well, it's going to have to work," Cuddy stated. She held her tongue for a few minutes, then sighed, "Fine. We were both wrong. We both screwed up. But, what's done is done…we should try to move forward."

"Are you sure it's even worth it? You know how I am. You know what I'm capable of."

"That's just a risk I'm willing to take. House, you're in my life for a reason. Whatever the reason is, I don't know…but you're here," She paused, and allowed a smile to grow on her lips. "If you weren't meant to be in my life, you sure as hell wouldn't be."

"My history can't just erase itself over a course of two years."

"I don't expect it to, nor do I want it to. Just accept that you're supposed to be in my life."

"There's a difference between having to be in your life and you wanting me in your life," He reminded her, his tone growing low in warning.

"I never said I didn't want you in my life. For a while, I thought I didn't. But then I realized that I'm miserable without you. I…I can't help it," She paused again, knowing he would need an explanation as to how she could be miserable without the man who drove through her house. "Going to work everyday and not seeing you there…it just didn't make sense. Something felt wrong, out of balance, disconnected. I almost dreaded going to work because I knew you wouldn't come barging into my office requesting to do some insane procedure on a patient. I missed that."

"Do you mean that?"

"House, you know I'm not a fan of lying," Cuddy returned his icy gaze, and held it firmly. Her eyes were unwavering, and she was staring into the pit of him. "If there was ever a point in our lives where I wanted you to trust me the most, this would be it."

"Okay," He answered simply.

"We've been through so much. We've said and done things to each other that are unbelievable…but that's our history. Like it or not, this is the way it is. Our history has led us here for a reason…now we just have to find whatever that reason is."

House shook his head and turned his head, his eyes bouncing off every bottle of wine standing on the rack behind the bar. "I can't believe that after everything I've done that you're actually sitting here not wanting to rip me to shreds. I wouldn't blame you one bit."

"Stop being so hard on yourself, House," She nervously placed a shaking hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. "What you did was very wrong, yes. But we are both at fault here." A few moments of silence passed before she spoke again, "Let's take a walk, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

House pushed himself from the bar stool and grabbed his cane. Cuddy, too, stood, stretched out her back, then arrived at House's side. Together, the two of them started towards the sandy shores.

Cuddy appeared to be calm, but on the inside, her thoughts could not be slowed. She didn't know what would happen after this little get together, but her goal was to get to the bottom of this whole issue with House. Her only condition was that no matter what, he had to stay in her life somehow. She'd already lost him too many times and finally she realized that she couldn't let it happen again.


	27. Chapter 27

House and Cuddy had been walking aimlessly along the beach for hours, successfully avoiding the topic they were both dreading. Their break up. There were still several problems that they had left unresolved. Right now; however, both of them didn't want to talk about it. They wanted to know what it was like to enjoy each other's company again without all the negativity that had once surrounded them.

The sun had set in the distance and now the beach was illuminated by the full moon above them. A slight breeze picked up every now and again, sending chills down the spines of anyone taking a nightly stroll.

The two of them stopped walking after Cuddy noticed an increase in House's difficulty to walk comfortably. She knew his leg was giving him trouble. They stood in silence, both of them settling their gazes on the calm water in front of them. It was a peaceful night, but they were far from content. The "talk" was inevitable.

"Have you ever wanted to just jump in a boat and just sail as far as you could see and wonder where you'd end up?" Cuddy suddenly asked, shattering the silence in an attempt to avoid talking about what had gone wrong between them.

"No," House answered, simply. "I'm not big on boating. I like my feet firmly planted on the ground."

"You don't have to be big on boating," She reminded him. Cuddy offered him a shrug, "I figured you'd want to, since you're the puzzle type."

"That's not a puzzle, Cuddy. That's an adventure," He corrected.

"Well, for some reason, I've always wanted to do that. Just take a leap of faith, jump right into it, sail straight ahead, and hold on for the ride." She seemed to be at ease, a placid smile lighting up her face. House wasn't convinced.

"You suck at metaphors."

"What are _you_ talking about?" She turned to face him, her eyes wide with surprise and her mouth gaped open.

"Oh, you know," House pushed.

"No, I'm not sure I'm following you. Care to elaborate?"

"You want to just take a risk and see where it takes you…you say you want to do something like that as if you've never done it before…but you have."

"I'm listening."

House took a deep breath and began to explain, "For years and years, angst was building between you and a rather good looking man if I do say so myself. Your lives were based on bickering and bantering flooded with sexual tension," He saw her open her mouth in protest, but stopped her by saying, "No matter how hard you've tried to deny it, that sexual tension was there.

"You stared at your friendship with him like he stared at your ass. Incessantly," House continued. "Both were like the open ocean, especially your dariere. One day, you decided to rent a boat, take a chance, and jump into a relationship with the stud, uncertain of where it would take you. But you embarked on the inevitable journey anyway. You find that instead of finding undiscovered land, you just hit a block of nothing magnificent or too interesting. But it still meant something to you…You didn't get everything you wanted, and you got shipwrecked, but I know you were happy...so now the question is…was the adventure worth it?" Once he finished his storytelling, he looked down at her, his face twisted into a smirk, but his eyes were purely serious.

"That's what you think that was about?" Cuddy's brow furrowed as she expressed her surprise, "Wow, I didn't know everything in life was such a giant metaphor to you. I was just trying to make conversation."

"You're the one who planted the bait." House was getting impatient, "Answer the question, Cuddy."

"What are you talking about? Of course it was worth it…damn you've got a way with words."

"That last bit was sarcasm." It wasn't a question.

"How long have you known me, House?" She looked at him expectantly.

House nodded and shrugged, defeated, "Point taken."

"So where were you planning on going with that little symbolic rant of yours?" She asked curiously. "Changing your profession from medicine to motivational speaking?" With that question, she added a playful smile to her face effortlessly.

"I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Say what?"

"That everything with me was worth it," He answered simply. Though he didn't appear to be happy or upset by her answer. His face remained unchanged.

"You could've just asked," Cuddy offered.

"Just asking has never worked between you and me. You know better."

After a few seconds of silence, Cuddy nodded, and turned her attention back to the ocean, "Point taken."

A little while later, they continued to stray away from the conversation they needed to have the most. While they managed to get in a few words about it from time to time, neither of them desired to continue. They were being stubborn. However, one of them would surely break soon enough.

"How's the hospital?" House asked.

"Same as always. Busy, but successful," Cuddy answered, her voice reflecting the pride she held in her hospital.

"And diagnostics?"

"Still going strong, but not as strong…Foreman's been working hard though."

"Foreman's an idiot," House said, shaking his head.

"By your standards, not by mine," Cuddy reminded him.

House's eyes widened in mock surprise, "Wait, my standards are actually higher than yours in one area?"

"You just don't like Foreman because he took your old job."

"No. I don't like Foreman because he's Foreman. He's a stoic, smartass, arrogant, son of a bitch. Need I say more?"

Cuddy clearly exaggerated her thought process, "Hmm…reminds me of someone I know…God, I finally understand. There can't be two of you, the repulsion is just too high between you and Foreman."

"Two of me? That's a blessing, not a curse," House protested.

"Arrogance," She pointed out.

"Aww, me? Not even slightly possible."

"Smartass."

"Big ass… that was you," House pinned.

Cuddy scoffed, "Obviously wasn't you."

"I make up for it in other areas like my irresistible personality."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and shook her head at him, "Oh, sorry, was my swooning too much for you? Oh, wait, t_hat _wasn't swooning. Sorry. _That_ was called an eye roll."

House smiled at her, his eyes gently roaming her face, "I've missed you, Cuddy."

"Don't try to change the subject."

"But I missed you."

She pointed a finger at him, "That may be true, but you only said it because you knew you lost our little banter. I've still got my touch and _you _can't stand it."

"I'm still insanely good looking, and you can't stand that," House argued, narrowing his eyes at her in his own sexy way that used to always drive her crazy.

She shook her head and reminded him, "I've got advanced self control."

"Then what was that little quiver in your lip, that rapid blink? The way your breath caught?" House pointed out, calling her out on her obvious swooning.

"Excuse me? Someone's self centered."

"No. _Someone_ just swooned. You lose. You're still hot for me, face it."

"And you're not still hot for me?" She looked down towards his lower body, "Your pants beg to differ."

House blushed, "This isn't about me or my pants."

Cuddy burst into laughter, shaking her head at him, "That's the best you can do? I win."


	28. Chapter 28

**Hey everyone! This by far has been one of my favorite updates to write, and this is only the first half of it. I had to cut it into two parts. Hope you all enjoy it!**

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><p>By now, the bar where they had met up earlier in the afternoon was in sight again; however, House and Cuddy remained on the sandy shores, neither of them ready for the hour long drive back to Princeton. It was now about ten o'clock and the pair was still avoiding the conversation they needed the most. Yet as they walked closer to the bar, they knew it was inevitable by now.<p>

They stopped a few yards in front of the bar. They were far enough away to still enjoy the beach and privacy, yet close enough to spectate the events happening in the bar.

"See that piano player?" House asked, pointing to a middle-aged man skillfully playing a piano at the bar. "He was in my anatomy class in med school."

Cuddy looked at House in surprise, then glanced at the man on the piano stool, "No way."

House shook his head, "Way. He dropped out halfway through the first semester. He disappointed his parents, but he followed his dreams." House shrugged and looked down at Cuddy, "Sounds like he did pretty good to me."

She wasn't as convinced, "He dropped out of med school."

"He followed his heart," House protested. "Doesn't matter if he'd poor as dirt or that he lives in a shack by the ocean...he's happy. At least he lives a crappy life happily. Better than living the good life miserably."

Cuddy shrugged, silently agreeing with House. He had a point. Cuddy had just about all she ever wanted: a wonderful job, a precious daughter, and a house that felt like home. Despite all she had managed to acquire in life, she was still miserable. There was something huge missing from her life, a void that only a man could fill. She secretly longed to have someone to come home to, someone that would love her unconditionally, no matter how difficult she knew she could be. She'd once had a glance at what that felt like. It hadn't been perfect, but that was the life she wanted. As she stood in silence now, she realized that the only person that could ever fill that void was standing right next to her.

How could she ever bring herself to admit it? Would he mock her for it? And even if she mustered the courage to say the words, would it change a thing? Would it change everything, or nothing at all? For the time being, Cuddy bit her tongue. She knew that House couldn't change overnight, and that she shouldn't be feeling the way she did when the man only came back into her life just yesterday. But, she couldn't help it. She'd loved him for twenty years.

"House," she said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying how light and carefree this is…but I know it's just leading up to something serious."

House sighed and rolled his eyes, "Of course it is. It always does. The inevitable conversation we find ourselves having…it'll show up sooner or later."

"I haven't seen you for two years, but I feel like you never even went away."

"Yeah."

Cuddy shook her head, frustrated with herself, "I'm sorry."

"Oh God, not this apologizing crap again…"

"House, shut up," She commanded, closing her eyes tight. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes again, and continued calmly, "Just hear me out… I'm sorry I gave up on you. I've regretted it ever since I did it."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" He asked.

"My pride wouldn't let me," She shamefully admitted.

"That's a stupid reason."

Cuddy nodded, "I don't disagree."

"So you stop our fun banter we've had all day just to agree with me that you have stupid reasons for the things you do?" House was trying to make sense of it all.

"Sure looks that way."

"Well, I don't want to talk about it," He said, simply, his eyes looking away from her.

"Why not?"

"I don't have anything else to say."

She was growing frustrated now. Yet, in a calm voice, she simply pleaded, "Stop deflecting."

House shook his head and started walking towards the ocean, "What's the point?" He asked, absently.

"What the hell?" Cuddy hurried after him and stopped in front of him, blocking his path. "In your letters, you were willing to talk and now you're just recoiling again?"

"It's harder in person."

"Why?"

House shrugged, "I'm more vulnerable this way."

Cuddy shook her head in protest, "That shouldn't be an issue. Not with us."

"Well it is," He pushed past her and continued walking towards the water's edge. "Just accept it."

She wouldn't let him get away that easy. Again, she ran after him and planted herself in front of him. She pointed a finger up at him, "I have seen your walls completely stipped down before. Why is now so different?"

A fire burned in House's eyes before he lost it, "Damnit, I let my walls down then because you were fixing me! Not breaking me!" Frustrated, he tried to walk away but, Cuddy grabbed his arms and looked up at him.

"What does that mean?"

"Things are different now," House said, a little more calm now. "If I let my guard down now, I'll just get hurt."

"Well, that's a risk you need to take." Shakily, her left hand snaked up his arm and her palm rested on his cheek. "House, I'm not trying to hurt you by getting you to open up to me. I have been completely open with you tonight. Don't you kind of owe me?"

He pushed her hand away and shook his head, "This is _not_ about what I owe you. And you have not been completely open with me."

On the edge of defeat, Cuddy released her grip on his other arm and let her arms hang limp at her sides. "Then what is it about, House? You got me out here, spent the whole day with me...why? If you just want to curl into your shell all over again, what the hell was the point of today?"

"See?" He said, pointing a finger at her. "There you go yelling at me again because you can't handle who I am."

Cuddy lowered her voice, "I'm not yelling..." She lied. "I'm sorry, I just want to know what you're thinking. I want this to finally be settled."

"Me too," House agreed. "You think I like waking up every morning just to feel the weight of all I've failed at resting right under my eyes? Who the hell would ever take pleasure in that level of misery?"

Realizing that she was slowly pulling him out of his shell, Cuddy grew calm and asked him to tell her about it.

Giving in with a sigh, House began, "I have been miserable for a long time, you know that. I am not the same man you met back in school. The pain I've endured has changed me. If anyone can see that, it's you." He stopped to take a deep breath. He nervously looked down at the sand and continued, "When you and I became a thing, I was the happiest I've been in a long time. It's like the pain would actually release its jaws for a short time. And when our relationship ended...every bit of pain came back, ripping me apart harder than ever. Not even the Vicodin helped."

Cuddy took a minute to absorb all he had revealed and said the only words she could think of, "I'm so sorry."

"Everything that ever had true meaning in my life was gone," House continued. "When the pieces of my one thousand piece puzzle were finally all aligned, it was broken apart." He paused and shook his head. Cuddy could see the tears forming in his eyes after he had been trying so hard to fight them. "Don't you get it, Cuddy? You're _it._"

For a moment, Cuddy stopped breathing.

"I tried moving on and I failed. So maybe I'm not supposed to move on. Please, tell me you understand what I'm trying to say," His tear filled eyes were pleading now.

"I...I understand," She choked out.

"Then please, for the love of God, tell me what I'm supposed to do because I _need _an ultimatum."

"I want you to come back to the hospital," Cuddy blurted, her brain not able to conjure up a better response.

That only made him feel worse. "I don't give a damn about the hospital. I give a damn about _you._ What do you want from me, Cuddy? Tell me now," He begged. "Because if I've already screwed up things too much for a second chance, I _need_ to know." House paused as a tear finally ran down his cheek. He batted it away hastily then continued, "I'm so _tired _of not knowing. Whoever said 'ignorance is bliss' was a moron. That's obviously not true."

"You're right," Cuddy said simply. She grabbed his left hand and traced the lines on his palms, memorizing every pattern and the feel of his skin. She too was crying at this point, but choked it back as best she could. Gathering all the courage she could muster, she looked up at him and met his eyes, "I tried to move on, too, and as much as I wish I could, I _can't._ You're supposed to be in my life, and I finally know why." She paused, and stared at him with a level of admiration she didn't hold for _anyone_ but him. With a slight shrug and a tear muffled chuckle, she admitted, "I love you."

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><p><em>...to be continued in the next update. Now, I don't want to lead you all astray and make you think it'll all be sunshine and happiness from here on out...House has yet to respond, and they have a bit to go before they'll be together again. But, at least Cuddy finally admitted it, right? Stay tuned and thanks for reading! It means a lot! :D<em>


	29. Chapter 29

**This was so hard to write for a number of reason, one of them being that I didn't want to put them back together on such a whim. So, basically, they still have some figuring out to do, but the fic should go on for a little while longer until they do! Haha. Enjoy! Thanks for reading!**

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><p>They stood in silence for a good while, both of them too stunned to say anything just yet. House looked down at his hand in hers and noticed that he had absentmindedly been tracing his thumb over her hand. He hadn't remembered doing that. After staring blankly at the sight for a few more seconds, he raised his head and looked her in the eyes, searching for an ultimatum.<p>

"So what does this mean?" He asked, his voice cracking nervously.

Cuddy sighed and used her free hand to wipe her eyes. "I need to know if you and I can work for real this time."

House, being the typical skeptic, raised one eyebrow and checked to make sure she was being serious, "I thought you loving me 'wasn't enough?'"

That stung Cuddy. She remembered saying it the night he turned himself in. While she may have meant it at the time, she was confident that she didn't mean it anymore. "No, it has to be," She said. "Else I still wouldn't be feeling this way about you. This isn't even logical," She mummbled. "Ever since I _met_ you, I _knew_ it was you. And why on earth you and I were matched up, I will _never_ know. There's no rhyme or reason, it's just the way it is..."

She had a point. They were two of the most dysfunctional people the world had probably ever seen, but somehow they fit in each others puzzles perfectly.

House's lip quivered, then he asked, "I'm an addict, Cuddy. You gonna up and leave me when I take benadryll for my allergies?"

His questions pierced right through her, making her feel a giant wave of cowardice. She hated herself for leaving him the first time. His question didn't make it any easier.

"Do you _have_ to be an ass about everything?" She asked.

"How long have you known me?"

Cuddy shrugged, "Long enough to know that if you weren't being an ass, then something must be gravely wrong with you."

The silence managed to settle over them again until House, determined to get to the bottom of it all, asked, "So what's it gonna be?"

"I _need_ to know what you're thinking, House. I've already told you how I feel and what I want."

House sighed and shook his head, "I just don't want to get hurt again."

"I know," She whispered, her voice barely audible.

At this point, she had a sinking feeling barreling through her stomach. What if he didn't really love her anymore? What if he didn't really want another chance? Cuddy didn't know if she could take that level of disappointment...not now, not after letting herself be vulnerable enough to admit that she loved him.

Minutes passed. _Damnit, say something!_ Her thoughts screamed at him. This silence was piercing her and causing her to feel light headed. She could have sworn she hadn't been breathing the entire time.

Finally, he said, "We've got a long way to go before it could ever work, but you...you're worth it."

The air returned to her lungs, and color lit up her face even in the moonlight. Relief spilled through her like the water roaring from behind a broken dam. "You're sure this is what you want?"

"If I wasn't, would I still be standing here? I'm a little quicker now after extensive physical therapy, so I could easily walk away," He taunted.

"Point taken."

He struggled at first, then said, "I...well, despite everything that has happened and _will_ happen- because let's face it: I'm an ass and you're a nightmare- ...despite everything...I still love you." He offered a small smile that she would have missed had she not been looking for it.

"So that's it?" She asked.

"I'm hoping this is the beginning of it...again," He responded, the words all too familiar. Although now, he was the one saying them.

Catching on to his play on words, Cuddy stepped up to take his role, "No, I mean it literally. We finally took a step forward in talking it out...Aren't you supposed to kiss me now, give us hope, and make the perfect moment?"

House's breath caught. At first, he wasn't even sure that he'd heard her correctly. Was this even a good idea? They weren't even close to a relationship and here she was wanting him to kiss her. Despite how much he wanted to, House was hesitant to actually do it.

"Oh, right," He said. "Sorry. Haven't gotten to that chapter in my 'How to Be the Perfect Man' handbook yet. I'll make a mental note of that."

"Just kiss me, House."

She wasn't sure why she was craving it so bad. Perhaps because it had been what felt like forever since he'd kissed her. She couldn't deny missing the way it felt. Cuddy realized that it probably wasn't the best, most responsible idea for two people that were trying to rebuild their friendship, but she wanted it so badly.

"You sure you want me to?" House asked, the hesitation fully present in his voice. "I mean, I don't want to take advantage of you," He added, his tone blazing with sarcasm.

"I know that," Cuddy said. "But, it would make me feel better if you did."

House shrugged and drew in a deep breath. He didn't know why he was even going through with it, but he couldn't deny that he wanted to. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arms around her waist, his cane dropping to the sand. His jaw was clenched tight, a feeling of nervousness swelling in the pit of his stomach.

Here she was right in front of him..._asking_ him to kiss her. It almost didn't seem real.

And yet it was. A bolt of energy struck him the moment his hesitant lips met hers. In those few seconds, everything around him stopped...and it felt right.

Reluctantly, he pulled away and reminded her, "You know none of this will be easy."

"That's why I want to take this slow," She said, already formulating a plan in her mind. "We won't even put a title on it...we could consider it a 'relationship,' well more like a 'domestic friendship' in progress." Cuddy paused, growing serious. "Neither of us are ready for a relationship with anyone right now. And I want to make sure we're both ready before we commit to each other. We have so much left to work on in not only our friendship, but in our individual lives."

"I know."

"We have to find some in between until we're both ready for a relationship, and only then, can we make it official."

"So, is this your subtle way of putting a claim on me so other woman can't score me while we're 'rebuilding?'" House asked cynically.

"...Yes. I just...I'm not ready for this yet. You came back into my life yesterday, House. You have showed signs of change, but I know you can't change overnight," She said, trying to make sense of it all.

"You're right," He agreed. "I can't."

She shrugged, "And neither can I. That's why we have to take this slow. I want to get this right, and I want to help you." She bent down and picked up his cane.

He offered her a silent thank you then asked, his lips forming into a cynical smile, "So, I know we're 'rebuilding' and all that crap, so let me get this straight: what limitations does this entail?"

Cuddy wasn't following him. "What are you talking about?"

"You just let me kiss you...will that be regularly allowed?"

Her face flushed red and she laughed heartily, "I...I guess if you feel the need to, I won't object...but...I am not having sex with you. Just don't even go there, House."

"Are you asking me to _court_ you?" House asked, his tone joking but his expression purely serious.

"No. I just...I don't know what the hell I'm asking. I don't even know what we're doing," She admitted.

"Neither do I...but we'll figure something out."

Cuddy nodded, "Right...I love you, House. But we have a long way to go before this can work."

"Yeah. I know," He paused, a thoughtful expression forming upon his face. "So...where does this leave us?"

A hint of a smile gleamed on her face, "I guess you could say we're 'talking?'"

"Are you _sure_ I'm not supposed to be courting you?"

"After all we've been through? _And_ after all we've done? ...I think that ship sailed a long time ago."

House nodded in agreement, "Just checking..."

Cuddy watched his face changed. He appeared to be troubled, and that made her very nervous. "What's wrong?"

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked, his eyes piercing into hers.

"I understand that we have a long way to go, but I'm willing to do it," She answered, confidently.

"I told you I'm an insane choice," He warned.

Correcting him, she offered, "You're _my_ choice."

"Okay."

Suddenly, Cuddy's face went blank before she laughed to herself, "What the hell are we going to tell Wilson?"

His reply was a striking contrast to the option he normally chose, but nevertheless, House chose, "The truth."


	30. Chapter 30

The next day, Cuddy was busily skimming through a stack of papers taking up the greater part of her desk. Today was supposed to be stressing her out, but she took it with grace. Cuddy was _happy,_ and she didn't mind the pile of work that appeared to be eating her desk.

Wilson walked into her office. Cuddy was too focused in her work to even notice him. He watched her work hastily, and regretted coming even though she had asked to see him. Though as he watched her, he noted that something was different. Her face was brighter, and she sat a little higher in her chair. He, too, could tell that Lisa Cuddy was happy.

Wilson cleared his throat and said, "You needed to see me?"

Cuddy stopped reading the papers on her desk and looked up at him with a blank expression. Remembering that she had indeed summoned him, she said, "Right. I spent the day with House yesterday."

_That explains why she's happy,_ Wilson thought, knowing that the pile of papers on her desk surely wasn't the reason. "...and?"

"We're not back together," She paused and smiled a little. "Yet."

Wilson tried to stop his eyes from widening, "Yet?"

"We're working on it," She explained.

"Which means?"

Cuddy shrugged and tossed a piece of paper into the trashcan next to her desk. "I don't really know what it means...other than we still have a lot to talk about, and neither of us are ready for a relationship right now."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

She looked up from her desk, her face frozen, "No."

"You didn't have sex last night?" Wilson clearly displayed his level of surprise.

"No...why?"

"House really has changed, then," Wilson remarked, running his fingers through his hair.

Cuddy rest her elbows her desk and leaned forward, "He understands what it's going to take for us to be with each other, and so do I. We're just going to be there for each other for the time being."

"Well, I have to say I never thought I'd ever see House try to commit to anyone like this since Stacy."

"Well, we're going to try...I love him, Wilson. And I know he loves me."

Wilson smiled warmly, "Good for you."

"We're going to dinner tonight to talk more," Cuddy announced.

He laughed to himself but didn't say a word.

"What?" She asked, clearly missing his humor.

"This whole 'we're together but not together yet' phase isn't going to last long for you two," He explained, doubting his friends' abilities.

"It'll last for as long as it needs to," Cuddy remarked. "Trust me, no one wants to be ready to commit again more than I do. But we need time just to be comfortable around each other."

Wilson shook his head, "Both of you are full of shit, but good luck."

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him, "Thanks, Wilson."

With that, Wilson left her alone with her thoughts. She and House had miles to go before a relationship could even be put into the question. Cuddy was willing to do all that she could for the simple reason that Gregory House was the most incredible man that she had ever known. All of his flaws, all of his strengths...everything about this man called to her and pulled her in. He was mysterious, dark, passionate, emotional...when the man loved, he loved hard. Everyone around her saw him as a sadistic figure that only cared about himself, or some bottled up stone cold hearted man. Cuddy knew better. House was tender, gentle, careful. He was much more than anyone ever imagined him to be. Even Wilson probably didn't know the extent of House's softer side. Lisa Cuddy had seen it, felt it, and _lived_ it for nearly a year before ending it all.

It wasn't just his brilliance. He was book smart, yes, but he had a certain air of wisdom about him that made Cuddy admire him even more. Even back in school, there was something different and striking about House.

He had seen her completely stripped down before. With anyone else, being that vulnerable would have frightened her. But with House, it excited her.

Taking a break from her thoughts, she came across an odd patient file. The patient's symptoms were odd, especially for someone at his young age of twenty-seven. Immediately, Cuddy thought of Foreman and the team.

With an unintentional smile and her old confidence, Lisa Cuddy sauntered through the hospital towards the elevator. She was dressed to perfection in her black suit jacket and her dark grey pencil skirt. Without any struggle, she navigated the halls in her heels. For the first time in a long time, everything about Cuddy was illuminated. Her face held more color and her smiles were genuine. Her old fire was back burning as strong as ever. She knew it all came from House. All she could hope for now was that that flame wouldn't be extinguished.

She strolled into House's old office and found the team seated around the glass table. They all looked up as she made her entrance, each silently noticed how spirited and upbeat she appeared today.

"Twenty-seven year old male experiencing frequent fainting and seizures with an irregular electrocardiogram," She explained briefly, tossing the patient file onto the table. "No history of heart disease in the family."

Foreman, still stunned at Cuddy's bright attitude, slowly took the file and read through it. When he finished skimming it, he passed it to Taub and assured her, "We'll get right on it."

"Thank you," Cuddy said. With that, she turned and walked out of the room, her strides full and confident.

Once he was sure she'd cleared the hallway, Chase spoke up first, "What's gotten into her? She's..._happy..._ and it's genuine."

They all sat in silence until Thirteen shrugged and took the patient file from Taub, "She's in love."

All three of the men turned to face her. Taub's eyes widened, "Are you sure?"

"I _am_ a woman," Thirteen reminded them. "I _do_ have womanly thoughts and feelings..."

"Think it's with House?" Chase asked.

Foreman burst into laughter, "God no."

The rest of the team chuckled as well. It couldn't be House, could it?

Oh, how wrong they were.


	31. Chapter 31

Later that night, House arrived at Cuddy's house. He was dressed in a traditional black tux he'd rented only a few hours earlier. Tonight he was taking her out to a new elegant restaurant in town.

He limped up to her doorstep and rang the doorbell. Within a few seconds, Cuddy emerged dressed in a short, black dress with the straps connecting behind her neck and black five inch heels. Her hair was neatly curled and her blue green eyes were decorated with smoky eyeshadow. She was quite a stunning sight.

"Someone looks nice tonight," House said, his eyes tracing his figure.

"Thank you...you ready?"

House shook his head, "I...I was actually hoping I could say hi to Rachel first."

Surprise clearly crossed her face, "Really? You...you want to see her?"

House shrugged, "I'm going to have to sooner or later."

"Okay," Cuddy said, nodding nervously. She invited him into her home and called out out her daughter, "Rachel? Someone is here to see you."

House heard her bare feet padding swiftly across the hard floor. When she rounded the corner, she stopped in her tracks, staring up at House. She was five years old now but she hadn't changed much. Rachel was a little taller now and her hair was styled a little differently, but she still had the same face full of life.

"Hey, kid. Remember me?" House asked, hoping that the little girl did remember him.

Rachel tilted her head to the side, her eyes squinting in scrutiny. There was something very familiar about the man in front of her. Her eyes travelled to his cane, and that's when she knew. It was "Hows."

"House?" She'd learned how to properly say his name now. "Momma, is this House?"

Both Cuddy and House were pleasantly surprised that Rachel remembered him. "Yes it is, Rachel. This is House. Do you remember him?"

"Of course I do!" Rachel squealed, happily.

Suddenly, she bolted forward and latched onto House, hugging him as tight as her little arms could possibly manage.

House was struck by the gesture and locked into place. He didn't know how to react at first, but then slowly found himself returning the embrace. Cuddy watched the awkward scene unfold before her eyes, a nervous feeling rising in the pit of her stomach. She knew that House was slightly uncomfortable with the situation, and she hoped that any awkward feelings would soon fade. She still had her doubts about his potential as a father figure, but she wasn't going to give up.

House pulled away from the hug, his shoulders slightly tense, then looked down at the little girl. "Well, I'm gonna take your mom out for a few hours and then she'll be back. Is that okay?"

Rachel nodded, "Yeah."

"Great," House answered, his tone lacking any emotion. He turned to Cuddy, who was still watching the scene, her posture just as stiff as his. "Ready?"

She snapped from her trance, "Yeah. Rachel," She addressed her daughter. "Brush your teeth and wash your face, okay? And don't eat any sweets!"

House lightly grabbed her by the arm and ushered her away, "Come on, mom."

Once in the car, Cuddy stared out the window and shook her head, "She's growing up so fast."

"Yeah. Definitely not as little as I remember."

Cuddy stared off sadly, thinking about the future. Rachel's teenage years would come soon enough. Would they still be as close as they were now, would Rachel be a problem child? Cuddy couldn't bear to think about that now.

"Hey, it's not a bad thing, Cuddy," House said, attempting to reassure her. "It happens. No use in fretting over what you can't control. Plus, the older they get, the closer to being human they are." House stopped with that comment, realizing that he'd clearly insulted young children.

Cuddy slowly turned to him, her expression full of skepticism. "Are you..._consoling_ me?"

House sighed, feeling defeated, "I'm making a sad attempt to, yes. Sorry if it sucks."

"No, no..." She protested, offering him a small smile. "You're doing great."

"Really? I'm finding out that this emotional crap isn't as hard as I thought. It's like a puzzle, you know? Trying to find the right words to say?"

Cuddy shrugged, "'Catch phrase' would probably be the better comparison."

"Since when did you take on the role of being the sarcastic logical thinker?" House asked.

"Oh, I don't know..." Cuddy said, shrugging. "I learn from the best."

"Foreman? Oh wait, he doesn't think logically."

"I meant you."

House turned his head to look her and chuckled darkly, "Obviously. No one else in your inner circle fits the criteria of being the best at it."

She couldn't disagree with that one.


	32. Chapter 32

**Thanks for reading! As always, reviews are very much appreciated! :D**

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><p>As House and Cuddy patiently waited for the check, Cuddy set her napkin on the table and thought of everything she wanted to say to House. The two of them had many unresolved issues, but she didn't know which one she wanted to tackle first. House was being unusually open with her, and she wanted to take advantage of it while she could.<p>

"Come back to work," She said suddenly. It was more of a plea, rather than a demand.

House eyed her from across the table, noting the begging tone of her voice. "Is this your way of saying that you need me, but making it look like it's a favor to the hospital?"

Cuddy stared at him absently for a few moments before her face twisted in thought. After a minute of speculation, she shrugged, "Maybe it's a little bit of both."

"What does this job offer include?"

"Your old job, old office, same team."

House shook his head, "No, that's what the hospital gets out of it. What do _you_ get out of it?"

"I'll have an employee back," She answered, nonchalantly.

"Still, for _the hospital,_ Cuddy. You have to do better than that."

"Not really," She said, her shoulders shrugging forward. "You'll take the job back anyway." Her face remained emotionless, but her eyes held a mischievous gleam.

"Are you screwing with me?" He asked, observing the sparks in her eyes.

One of her eyebrows rose and she glared at him, "Are _you_ screwing with _me?"_

House's jaw momentarily dropped before he replied, "I asked you a question...no evidence of screwing there. _You_ on the other hand-"

"Yes, I'm screwing with you," Cuddy admitted, smirking at him.

"In public?" He asked in feigned surprise. "Damn, what happened to you while I was away?"

Cuddy sighed, "I want you to come back because I want you there for reasons of my own."

"Such as?"

"Well, seeing as we aren't dating, that means I won't be able to see you after work every night," She explained, her eyes avoiding his for the time being. She still was trying to figure what she and House were. They weren't dating, they weren't friends with benefits, they were..._complicated._

"I could come over for dinner," House offered.

"We both know how that would end."

House thought for a moment, then realized what she was alluding to, "Ah, right. The delicious dessert with a side of Cuddy."

Her brow furrowed slightly at the mental image, "Yes..._that._"

House shrugged happily, "Well, at least I know you're still interested in sex. Of course, then again, when _haven't_ you been interested in sex? Especially with me."

"Don't flatter yourself, House," She said flatly, though her cheeks flushed bright red. "So, back to my point: come back to work so I can still see you every day and we can get back to normal."

"Hmm...still not seeing what's in it for me."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes at him until she saw something in his face soften.

"I'm kidding," He said. "I'm not that much of an ass. And plus, I've got bills to pay. I'll come back."

Satisfied, Cuddy smiled, "Thank you."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Dinner had gone well for both of them. They kept the conversations light and the food was absolutely delectable. The only bad part of the evening was the fact that it was close to the end now as House's car rolled up to Cuddy's home.

His eyes drifted to the spot where he'd driven through over two years ago. He held his head down in shame and directed his attention to Cuddy as her voice shattered the silence.

"I had a great time tonight."

House smiled, "Me too."

"I'll see you at work tomorrow?"

House nodded.

Cuddy was genuinely pleased about that. "Good." With that, she stepped out of his car and slowly walked up to her doorstep.

House eagerly got out the car and followed her to her doorstep. He felt like he was on a high school date, as crazy as it sounded. He was making sure he delivered Cuddy home safe and sound. Then, he would wait anxiously for the next day at school- well, work, in this case- just to see her again. He hadn't been this excited in a while.

A part of him was afraid. Was he giving himself false hope? Did Cuddy really want to try a relationship again in the future? He wasn't sure if he should let himself be vulnerable to the way he felt. House knew how dangerous that could be.

They stood facing each other in silence. Cuddy inhaled sharply and tilted her head to the side, analyzing his face. She could tell he was thinking heavily about something.

Piercing the silence, she asked, "You want to kiss me don't you?"

House had to clench his jaw to keep it from dropping. He had heard that before. But this time it was real...it had to be...he wasn't taking any Vicodin. He'd been clean for a while now. Still, the whole situation messed with his mind. He was too stubborn to accept that it was real, yet it he wasn't to let the opportunity pass him by.

"I always want to kiss you," He admitted, feeling as if he'd rehearsed that line over and over. He was thankful that this time, he hadn't said it in a hallucination.

Her genuine smile was the final piece of the puzzle that made him accept that it was real this time. A hallucination-Cuddy could never capture the perfection of real-Cuddy's smile. The way her whole face lit up...it had to be real this time.

Cuddy stood in place and let him kiss her. She felt greedy at first, knowing that she'd initiated it. But somehow, she didn't feel too guilty about it. She practically craved kissing the man. However, as the kiss lengthened, she felt a twinge of apprehension. They weren't a couple, and they certainly had a while to go before they ever could be. She felt like maybe this was giving both of them too much hope. As her thoughts raced, she mentally kicked herself then pulled away, cutting off the kiss.

Her eyes slowly opened and she looked up at House. He seemed confused as to why she had pulled away so abruptly, but he would never ask her about it.

Instead, he gave her a nervous smile and said, "Goodnight, Cuddy."

Cuddy mirrored his grin, "Goodnight."

When she thought he had gone, she turned to unlock the door only to hear his voice boom behind her, "Wait- are we considered friends with benefits?"

She couldn't help but laugh to herself. She shook her head and turned to face him, fully smiling now. "Go home, House."


	33. Chapter 33

**Hey guys! Sorry I took so long with this update. School has been crazy! But, here it is. Enjoy! :D And thank you for reading.**

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><p>The next morning, House woke up earlier than usual and sat up slowly in bed, his hand massaging his aching thigh. Mornings were always troublesome for him and today was no different. After a few minutes, the pain leveled out to its normal intensity and he pushed himself out of his bed. Grabbing his cane, he hobbled over to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans, a blue button down, his dark suit jacket, and a new pair of sneakers. He quickly dressed and went into his bathroom to wash up.<p>

As he brushed his teeth, he felt an odd sensation swirl in the pit of his stomach. Was it his nerves? More than likely. House was buzzing with energy this morning because of his excitement over getting his job back. House was always better when he was practicing medicine. It took his mind off of the pain in his leg, and it was what he was born to do. A part of him was nervous about it. Here he was, a former criminal returning to work at one of the most prestigious hospitals in the area that is administrated by the woman whose home was wrecked due to him. It was such a twisted, illogical picture. House knew what people must be saying about Cuddy. Critics probably called her crazy for re-hiring her estranged ex-boyfriend, but even they could not deny House's reputation as a phenomenal diagnostician.

He walked into Princeton-Plainsboro with a lack of confidence. His eyes stared at the ground as he limped through the doors, and his head was not titled high in his usual arrogant way. Instead, his posture was sagging. House was ashamed.

Cuddy spotted him as she emerged from one of the elevators. Her face lit up immediately, but a nervous gleam remained in her eyes. She sensed his mood and saw his deflated stance as he stopped in front of the front desk. When he caught sight of the Dean pacing towards him, he offered her a crooked smile, but his icy eyes revealed his apprehension.

"Hey," Cuddy said as she made her way to where he was standing. "How did you sleep?"

"I didn't."

Cuddy's face twisted into a frown, but she put on her business face before House could detect any change in her mood. "You ready?"

House nodded.

She knew all eyes were on the two of them, so she couldn't vocalize any reassuring words to him. Instead, she caught his gaze and held it for a few moments in an attempt to calm him down. Her gaze was soft, and promising. Somehow, House felt himself calm down slightly, but he couldn't fully rid his mind of the nervousness.

Cuddy began to walk towards the elevators. That was his cue to follow.

Once the two of them were alone in the elevator, she turned to face him, "What are you so worried about?"

"I'm not."

"Don't lie to me."

House sighed, "I don't know. I just feel guilty for even being here."

"Because of what happened?"

He nodded.

"Don't," She said, shaking her head at him. "I want you here, and I don't care about what anyone else thinks." With that, the elevator opened. Hesitantly, she tapped his hand with her own in a subtle, reassuring way instead of lacing her fingers with his, which she would have much rather preferred. She stepped out of the elevator and motioned for him to follow her, "Come on."

House followed her down the hallway towards his office. He could see the team in the differential room debating over the case that Cuddy had given them the previous day.

He felt his world move in slow motion as Cuddy pushed open the glass door and ushered him through it. Everyone at the table looked up at him in surprise, their eyes silently demanding an answer. Cuddy followed him inside and stood in the back, allowing House to speak first. She wanted to give him a chance to address the team without her help.

Foreman was the first one to speak, "What are you doing here?"

House inhaled and exhaled sharply then delivered his reply, sneering at him, "I'm taking my job back. What does it look like I'm doing?" He could swear he heard Cuddy scoff in the background.

"You have to have a valid medical license," Foreman shot back in his matter-of-fact manner than never ceased to irritate House.

"I do," He corrected. "Went to my hearing over a year ago. Get with the program, Foreman. Your fifteen minutes of fame are up."

"You think you can just walk right back in here and-"

"Hey, calm it down you two," Cuddy interjected. "Foreman, House is back."

Foreman stood stunned, "You're actually re-hiring him?"

"Yes," Cuddy answered, simply.

"Why?"

"I don't think it's in your job description to question my actions, Foreman." Her tone was authoritative and he knew he had been warned.

He relaxed slightly, "Right."

"So, yes," Cuddy continued. "House is coming back to his old job. Everything will be as it was before he left. Understood?"

The team sounded off a mutual "understood."

"Alright. I'm going to down to my office," She turned to House and gripped his arm tenderly. "If you need anything, let me know, okay?"

He nodded. She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, smiled up at him, then left him alone with the team.

"I'm back," He said, smirking. "Miss me?"

"So this is for real?" Thirteen asked, still processing it all.

"You mean Foreman being demoted and me resuming my old duties? If that's what you're referring to, then yes, this is real." House saw Foreman scowl out of the corner of his eye.

"Welcome back," Taub said.

House scoffed at him, "You don't mean that."

Taub shrugged, "Of course not. It's called flattery."

House suddenly made a noise like a siren wailing, then rolled his eyes at Taub. "You know what that's called? It's called a bullshit radar. I can read you like an open book, daddy dearest."

Taub's face flushed red as House reminded him that he was the father of two children, one with his ex-wife Rachel Taub, and the other with Ruby, a nurse at the hospital. He sank down in his chair. Upon her discovery of Taub fathering a child with another woman, Rachel had severed her relationship with him, yet didn't keep him from his child. Though their relationship was damaged, she still wanted him in their child's life.

Thirteen looked to Chase and quietly muttered, "He hasn't changed a bit."

Chase appeared to be puzzled. He shook his head, "I don't know. It's yet to be seen, but something is different."

"Thirteen, Chase," House barked. "Stop whispering amongst yourselves and get me a case."

"We're actually in the process of concluding a case that Cuddy presented to us," Foreman cut in. "I think we need to finish what we started-"

"_And_ I'm your boss again. Find me a case."

"House, he's right," Thirteen agreed, realizing that Foreman would never win the battle alone. "We need to treat the patient for Long QT first before we take on another patient."

"Fine. Get it down, and get us a new patient," House said as he turned to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Foreman demanded.

"Salad bar. I hear there's a hot knew blond working down there."

Chase's eyes brightened at the topic change, "Actually, she's-"

"I'm joking...I'm going to see Wilson."

Chase sank in his seat, his face flushed red. The blond at the salad bar was pretty hot.

After House was out of sight, Chase spoke up, "We were wrong."

"No we weren't," Foreman said, rolling his eyes. "The patient has Long QT. There's no evidence suggesting otherwise."

"I wasn't talking about the patient. I meant Cuddy."

"I'm not sure I'm following you," Taub said, wrinkling his face in confusion.

"She's in love with House," Chase explained.

Taub stared at him, his expression doubtful. "And you arrived at this conclusion how?"

"Did you not see the way she grabbed his arm before she left?"

"It was arm grab," Foreman said flatly.

"Would she grab your arm like that?" Chase shot back.

"Well, no."

"Didn't think so."

"Because our relationship is strictly professional," Foreman defended. "I don't know if Cuddy and I are even friends. House is more sensitive subject."

Thirteen shrugged, "I have to agree with Chase on this one."

"Seriously?" Foreman gawked at her.

"Did you not see the angle at which her arm came into make the grab? Or the exact amount of pressure her fingers exerted on his bicep?"

"Are you..._mocking_ me?" Chase asked in disbelief.

She narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "What gave it away?"


	34. Chapter 34

**Hey everyone! Sorry the updates are coming so slowly. I've been very busy with school and everything that goes along with that. **

**Before I forget, I'm finally on twitter. So, add me: fender24hc**

**:D Thanks for reading!**

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><p>House rapped his cane on Wilson's office door before letting himself in, his voice bellowing, "Knock, knock, anybody home?"<p>

Wilson dropped his pen in shock and looked up to see House standing in front of him. "House?" He looked at him in surprise, yet a part of him remained calm. House looked good considering what he had been through over the past couple of years. His appearance was neat. Wilson could tell by looking at him that he hadn't slept much the night before, but he had still put an effort into looking professional his first day back on the job.

"No, it's your mother," House retorted.

Wilson glared at him and signed a paper on his desk. "So, you're back then?" He asked, not looking up from his work.

"Yes, it would appear that way," House said as he sat down in one of the chairs in front of Wilson's desk.

Wilson looked up, "Welcome back."

House nodded and muttered his thanks.

"You seem nervous," Wilson observed. "Something wrong?"

House wanted to scream at him. After everything that had happened how could he not feel nervous? Here he was, being given the opportunity to do what he does best in the best place to do it...and he was being granted all of this by the woman he thought he would never have any kind of relationship with ever again.

House shrugged, "It just feels odd being back here. And I don't want people criticizing Cuddy for her decision. She's subject to enough petty crap as it is."

Wilson sighed and sat back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. He stared right at House and felt the guilt radiating off of him. "I think most everyone trusts Cuddy's judgment. You're a great doctor, why wouldn't she hire you back?" He offered, though he knew several answers to his own question. There was House's issues with ethics, his multiple malpractices suits, the way he could become unstable within minutes...the list could go on, but none of that could cover up the fact that Gregory House was phenomenal at saving lives.

House tilted his head to the side and feigned a thoughtful expression, "Well, I don't know...maybe because I _drove through her house?_ That ring a bell?"

"That's in the past, House. We're in the present." Wilson shook his head and leaned forward, catching House's eyes. "Leave that memory where it belongs."

"I just hope she isn't making a mistake," House said, his voice dropping a few decibels.

"Only you know the answer to that."

House shook his head, "And only she knows how much of me she can handle."

"You're an ass, House, and everyone knows that. You're a pain, impossible to handle, but-"

"Am I blushing?" House interrupted.

"_But,_" Wilson continued. "Cuddy had legitimate reasons in hiring you again. She wouldn't have done it if she didn't know what she was getting herself into."

"Thank you," House mumbled.

"For what?"

"Just accept my thanks," House barked. "Don't make me explain why I said it."

"Fine. You're welcome for whatever I said or did to prompt you to actually say thank you," Wilson said, picking up his pen to resume work.

House stood up and left Wilson alone, still brooding over what he had said. He wasn't entirely convinced, but he would accept it for now until he heard it from the Dean herself. She'd given him her reasons at dinner, and he'd accepted them. What he wanted to really know was how he had gotten this streak of good luck?

Just as he left Wilson's office, Chase was exiting the differential room. House planned to pay him no attention, but then the young Australian doctor sprinted to catch up with him.

"What's going on between you and Cuddy?" His tone was oddly urgent. It was like high school drama all over again. Everyone wanted to know who everyone else was sleeping with.

_God,_ House thought to himself. He kept his eyes pointed forward, not even given Chase a teasing glance. He smiled to himself, "Same thing that's going on between you and Thirteen."

Chase's steps tripped up as House's response surprised him. "Whoa, excuse me? We're not seeing each other."

"Bu you wish you were."

"What?"

House finally looked at him, "I see the way you watch her. She's hot, Chase, I'm surprised you haven't tapped that already."

Chase's face flushed red, "I'm playing the long game."

"So you admit it," He muttered. "You're hot for Thirteen."

"This isn't about Thirteen and it most certainly isn't about me either," Chase said quickly, changing the subject. "This is about you and Cuddy."

House shrugged, "I'm playing the long game, too. But both of us know that this isn't really a game, now is it? This time it's for real; no games, no gimmicks, just feelings."

"So you and Cuddy are for real, then?" Chase asked.

"We're getting there," House answered, nervously.

Chase smiled, "Congratulations. It's not often that people get second chances with the people they love."

"This isn't a second chance," House corrected him, pressing the button for the elevator with his cane.

Chase gave him a questioning glance.

"This is about the one thousandth chance," He explained.

"What are you talking about?"

House smiled once then got in the elevator, "Time for lunch, gotta go!"

"House!" Chase yelled. The door closed. "Damn."

Cuddy had always given House more chances than any normal person would dare to. Now more than ever, he was grateful for everything she had done for him. When no one else would answer, she came to his apartment when he had attempted self surgery. She had been the one to rush him to the hospital.

He often wondered why she had even bothered. As the days passed, he found himself getting closer to the answer. Back in medical school when they had first met, there was something about Lisa Cuddy that told him that this woman was supposed to be in his life. He believed that more than he ever had. She had played every role in the book in his life, and she'd played all of them so well. She had been his boss, his friend, his lover, and on several occasions, his savior.


	35. Chapter 35

**Thanks so much for reading! And, again: I AM on twitter now! fender24hc**

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><p>Chase and Thirteen were running an ultrasound scan on a new patient during House's lunch break. House suspected that a tumor was causing the patient's symptoms and the two team members set out to find it.<p>

"I know you took great pleasure in mocking me earlier, but I was right," Chase announced, applying the gel to the ultrasound scanner.

Thirteen looked at him with wide eyes, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, he told me," Chase confirmed.

"How did you manage to pull that one out?" She asked, taking the scanner from his hand. "Reverse psychology? Mind games? ...terroristic threats? What's your secret?"

Chase shrugged, "I was blunt and just asked."

She turned to him, one eyebrow raised in uncertainty, "And he willingly told you?"

"Well, not willingly. He had to beat around the bush, play a mind game with me, make me search within myself...the typical symptoms of a House reveal," The young Australian explained, his eyes latched onto the ultrasound monitor.

"Mind game?" Thirteen asked. "And speaking of symptoms, it's pretty obvious now what's causing the patient's condition. House was right. Look at that tumor." With her free hand, she pointed to the abnormality on the monitor. Sure enough, a large tumor was situated on one of the patient's kidneys.

"Well, you know how House is. And you're right. Good God...we've got to get this thing out."

"But you said this one made you 'search within yourself?'" She asked while she moved the scanner to get a better look at the tumor.

"Don't they usually?" He fired back, hoping to avoid mentioning the exact content of his conversation with House.

Thirteen nodded, "And then we end up hanging our heads in shame. So, what layer of hell did this reveal cause you to slip to?

"I'd rather not talk about it," He admitted.

"That bad, huh?"

Chase shook his head, "No, it wasn't bad at all. Just personal."

Thirteen sighed and looked back down at the patient, "Alright, fine. Don't tell me even though you've gotten me to open up on various occasions."

"Thirteen, I really just don't want to talk about it right now."

"It's fine. No big...unlike this tumor..."

"Right," Chase said, snapping back into professional mindset. "The tumor."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

While Chase and Thirteen were busy removing the tumor on one of the patient's kidneys, House was sitting in Cuddy's office after the two of them shared each other's company for lunch.

"So," Cuddy began, "I've got a few minutes left on my lunch break...let's talk."

House sighed and slumped into one of the chairs in front of her desk, "What else could we possibly have to talk about?"

"Everything...anything," Cuddy offered.

"You really narrowed that down," House said rolling his eyes. "I was hoping for an answer including at least a modicum of specificity."

"How about the concept of us being there for each other?" Little did she know, Cuddy hit a nerve with that one.

"I get it, alright? No need to be subtle," He mumbled. Cuddy gave him a questioning glare, forcing him to explain. "I wasn't there for you when you had your potential health crisis, but I wanted to be. You told me that wasn't enough. What else is there to say?"

Cuddy mentally kicked herself. "I just...I don't want to _hope_ someone will be there, I want to _know_ without even a fraction of doubt."

"So you doubted me." It wasn't a question.

She sighed and looked down at her desk, unable to look into his eyes and see the pain that was still burning in them. "Past experience pushed me to doubt you, House. Yes."

He was silent for a few minutes, then began, "All I ever wanted to do was...was to keep you happy. But it was so hard because I was afraid. I was scared of making you unhappy. If you asked me to jump, I asked how high. Then, when I jumped, I was always afraid you'd say it wasn't quite high enough. Apparently it wasn't."

Cuddy forced herself to look at him. One look at him sent guilt spiraling through her. "House..."

"I could have done better."

She frowned, "I could have too."

House open his mouth to speak but suddenly gripped his leg before he could say a word. A sharp, ripping pain tore through his leg.

"House, what's wrong?" Cuddy asked, jumping up from her desk.

"My leg," He said through clenched teeth.

She rushed to his side and kneeled down beside his chair. The doctor in her took over the situation. "Scale of one to ten, ten being the worst?"

"Seven."

"What's going on?"

House struggled to explain, "I just get random...random bursts...of sharp pain some-sometimes."

"What can I do to help?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all?

House shook his head, "I just have to ride it out."

Ten minutes later felt like ten hours later as Cuddy watched him deal with his pain. It broke her heart because there was nothing she could do except sit there. She felt useless.

"...feeling any better?" She finally asked.

House wiped the sweat off his forehead, "A little."

"House, you need to start seeing your therapist again...or something. I don't know. But you can't keep living like this."

House shrugged, "I've been living like this for years now."

"And you shouldn't have to for another day," She pressed.

"What are you proposing?"

Cuddy stood up and looked down at him sadly, "I don't know."

"Then it looks like I'll be living like this for another day," He retorted.

"House, I just don't want you to be in pain anymore," She said, shrugging. Seeing him like this killed her inside. He just looked so helpless minutes earlier when he was doubled up in the chair.

"Neither do I, but sometimes the option to take away the pain is worse than the pain itself."

Her eyes suddenly widened, "Are you talking about amputation?"

"Isn't that what you're thinking about about?"

She nodded, "Yes, but I know you wouldn't do it."

"Then why even think about it?" He said, a bit harshly. "That's wasting brain power."

"I don't know," Cuddy shrugged and watched him stand up. "I was _thinking_ about it in hopes that maybe you'd _think_ about changing your mind."

He grabbed his cane, "Don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen."

"Why are you so against amputation?"

"What kind of question is that? Would you like walking around with a metal leg?" He turned the tables on her and dared her to put herself in his position.

"If it meant I wouldn't be in pain anymore," She answered calmly though the tension filling up the air between them was palpable.

House smiled in an almost wicked way, "No, I know you." He pointed a finger at her, "You can stand there now and say you would do it, but I know better. If you were actually in my situation, you'd be singing a different tune." House shook his head. "Oh yeah, here comes the Dean of Medicine strutting her stuff in a pencil skirt with a metal leg...that totally sounds like you."

Cuddy was taken aback by the venom in his voice, but she didn't hold it against him. She could only imagine how frustrating it was for him. She shrugged, agreeing with him, "I suppose saying it then actually doing it are completely different, but it sounds to me like you care more about what other people will think rather than how much better your life would be."

She watched his face change as he processed her words. Something resembling anger welled up in his eyes, but a small fraction of shame meandered its way into view as well. She saw it spread across his face. She knew she was right, but he would never let her have the satisfaction of knowing it.

Instead, he snapped out of his shameful expression and his face hardened into a mask as he shook his head at her, "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Medically, yes I do. Emotionally, no I don't..." Her voice softened, "But that doesn't mean that I can't be here for you."

"Just don't worry about it." He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and figured it was an update from Chase or Thirteen. House turned to walk away, "I've got to go."

He hobbled towards the door of her office. He was halfway through the door when Cuddy's voice caught his attention and stopped him in his tracks.

"Was I right about you caring about what other people would think?"

He turned to face her once last time, his face holding that same shameful expression from moments earlier. He sighed once, then turned and left her alone. The door closed, leaving her alone in an eerie silence.


	36. Chapter 36

Two weeks later, House had finally gotten back into the swing of things and the initial tension surrounding his return had vanished. The world around him started to seem more positive. Even House himself could admit that he hadn't been this content with his life in a long time. He had been diagnosing patients like a madman, yet the case he was attending to now had him at a roadblock. Seth Jones is a twenty-three year old male that was rushed to Princeton-Plainsboro a day ago. At a glance, he was showing symptoms of a respiratory problem. Immediately, House and the team set to work to find a diagnosis, yet they kept coming up empty.

That day, they were standing in the patient's room, deliberating on what to do. Seth was running out of time, and House knew that they had no time to waste.

He was an average guy. He had sandy blond hair that stopped just short of shoulder length, olive hued eyes, a rough face decorated with a five o'clock shadow, and a scar through his left eyebrow. He had been a football player in high school but was now studying psychology at a local community college.

"Sarcoidosis?" Foreman offered.

"Negative," House corrected. "No contributing factors leading to sarcoidosis. Try again."

"House, we're at a road block," Foreman snapped. "If we don't do something soon, we're gonna run out of time."

House opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter even a word, Seth burst into a coughing fit. He spit up blood onto the bed sheets and was struggling to breathe.

At that moment, Cuddy appeared in the room. She quickly noted that House's team had the situation under control and called out to him, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

House eyed her incredulously and motioned to his patient, "Can it wait? My patient is doing something disgusting."

"House. Now."

Rolling his eyes, House followed the Dean out into the hallway. He stopped in front of her, "What's so important that you have to grab my attention now?"

"I need a favor."

"Oh?"

Cuddy's eyes filled with dread, "Marina has some kind of flu, Wilson is working late tonight, my mom is out of time...so...I was wondering-"

"If I could babysit?" House interjected.

Her face twisted into a frown. "Yes. Would you?"

"Seriously? Where are you going to be?" He threw up his hands in protest.

"I'm also working late."

"Depending on what my patient has coughed up since you dragged me away, I might be working late too," He taunted, trying desperately to get out of babysitting.

"That's not guaranteed," Cuddy pointed out.

"Doesn't have to be," He objected. "At least it's on the table."

"House, please. I need you to do this for me."

House saw the pleading gleam in her eyes and knew he would be in for it big time if he didn't consent. With much reluctance, he sighed, "Fine."

"Thank you," She said, a genuine smile flooding her features. "It'll only be for a couple hours at the most."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," He muttered. "I need to get back to my patient. Hopefully he didn't cough up his whole damn lung while I was gone."

"Your team had it under control."

"I know...I'm just saying, if the patient could actually cough up his lung, that would be one event I would _not_ want to miss," House explained, an amused expression growing on his face.

"You're sick," Cuddy complained, yet she too was smiling.

He turned to walk away but stopped and face her one more time, "You love me."

Cuddy chuckled to herself, "Sometimes."

House suppressed his laughter and left her in the hallway.

If anyone had ever told Lisa Cuddy that she would be asking House to ever babysit for her, she would call them crazy. But now, she saw the bond between her daughter and House. He was practically Rachel's hero. She adored the man and House tolerated her. She knew the arrangement could work for a night. She trusted House to come through for her this time.

She felt as if she was testing him and in her own little way, she was. Cuddy caught herself praying that he would pass the test.


	37. Chapter 37

**Thanks so much for all of your kind reviews. You guys inspire me to keep writing. Thanks so much! :D**

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><p>House arrived at Cuddy's house at exactly eight o'clock. He let himself in with the key she had let him borrow for the night and found Rachel sitting on the couch watching a program on the television. She looked only mildly interested in what was flowing across the screen. House estimated that this wasn't Rachel's favorite show...not by a long shot.<p>

"Hey kiddo," House said as he walked over to the couch and announced his presence.

Instantly, Rachel sat up on the couch, a delighted expression forming on her face, "Hi House! What are you doing here?"

"I'm gonna stay here until your mom gets home," He explained, sitting down next to her.

"Wanna play a game?" She asked, tapping him on the shoulder even though she already had his full attention.

House sighed, "Not really." His tone was sweet; he had to let her down easy.

Rachel disregarded his answer and pressed the matter, "Hide and seek?"

"What part of 'not really' did you not get?"

Rachel's face twisted into confusion, "What?"

He shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds then sighed once more, "Never mind...tell you what: you go hide, and I'll count to fifteen then come find you, alright?"

Instantly, she lurched off the couch and ran down the hallway, the sound of her bare feet resonating throughout the house.

He leaned back and grabbed the TV remote. Just to humor himself, he began counting out loud, though he had no intention of actually looking for her, "One, two, three, four, five...eleven...twelve, fifteen." It wasn't an honest effort, but it was one he could live with.

About thirty minutes later, Rachel came walking in slowly. She pulled herself onto the couch next to House and folded her arms across her chest. She wasn't upset, but she appeared to be disgusted.

"You stink at this game," She suddenly said, looking over at him.

House shrugged and didn't take his eyes off the television, "You can't be good looking _and_ good at hide and seek. It's a law of nature."

Rachel shook her head, "You're silly."

He turned to look at her this time, "And hide and seek is stupid. We both lose."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

It was time for Rachel to go to bed now, and House wasn't entirely sure about the situation. He pushed himself off of the couch and followed her into her room.

"Time for bed already, huh?" He asked.

Rachel climbed into her bed without answering him and looked up at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Aren't you going to tuck me in?"

"Sure," House said. He walked over to her bed and pulled the sheets over her legs and stomach, then patted them down. Admittedly, it wasn't a very good job of tucking in, but he knew it would be enough to satisfy Rachel.

"Goodnight, House," Rachel said, sweetly.

"Goodnight, kid," With that, he turned and left her room. His heart was about to beat out of his chest.

He had pulled it off. House himself had his doubts about his ability to be a father, but he was trying to learn. He had to in order to be with Cuddy. House knew that being with her was a package deal.

As soon as House had made it back into the living room, Cuddy walked through the door.

"Hey," She said softly, her blue green eyes mirroring the wide smile on her lips. "How did it go?"

House gave her a crooked grin, "Fine. She's in bed."

He could tell that his words gave her peace. "Great," She said. "Thank you."

"Yep," He said, a stiff silence filling the air. He turned and sat down on the couch.

"You okay?" She asked, draping her suit jacket over the back of the couch.

"Yeah. Just thinking about my case."

Cuddy wasn't entirely convinced, but she didn't try to probe for information. "Right. You want some tea or anything?"

"No thanks. I think I'm gonna go."

She would be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed, "You're sure?"

"Unless you want me to stay a little while."

She wanted to scream for him to stay, but she didn't want to seem too eager. Instead, she put the pressure on him, "That's up to you."

He looked at her face and could see the pleading look her eyes betrayed to him. "I guess I'll stay for a few minutes."

It was hard for her to hide her satisfaction at that fact. "Okay. I'm gonna go wash up and check on Rachel. I'll be back in a few minutes."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Cuddy took her time and returned back to the living room about fifteen minutes later. She found House watching the weather channel. A smile danced across her lips and she sat down next to him.

"The weather channel?" She questioned. "I hardly pinned you as a guy who's interested in the weather."

House shrugged and turned the television off. "Nothing else was on."

"So...what's going on with your patient?"

House frowned, "I don't know."

"How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad. It could be any number of things but by the time we're done testing, he'll be dead." This case troubled him greatly. It was pushing him and working his mind harder than it had been worked in a long time.

"So what's the plan, then?" She was trying to assume her Dean of Medicine role while also trying to get House to open up to her on a more personal level about his job.

"I don't have one," He admitted. "I guess we'll just do what we can until we run out of options."

Cuddy understood what "running out of options" meant, and that worried her. She knew how House could get when he lost patients. It was always ugly.

A few minutes passed and House stood suddenly, "Well, I should be going."

Cuddy stood up and walked him to the door, "Alright. See you tomorrow. Thank you for doing this, House."

House nodded and stood across from her, "You're welcome."

Cuddy pulled him into a hug. House wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and they stood in silence for a few minutes. She was so proud of him for being there for her tonight, stepping up, and taking care of her daughter. When she pulled away, she kissed him tenderly on the cheek, and smiled softly up at him. "Goodnight, House."

"Goodnight, Cuddy."


	38. Chapter 38

**Okay...so this update is kinda long...and a little insane. But I felt like stirring the shit pot a little. Perhaps I stirred it too much with this one, perhaps I didn't. Either way, here it is, and I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much for continuing to read...on a side note: this story shouldn't be lasting too much longer but it still has a little ways to go. For everyone that is still reading, I really appreciate all of you so much :D**

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><p>A few days later, House was standing in his office facing the book shelf behind his desk. He had actually come in early today. After all, he didn't see a point in lying awake for hours just wasting time when he could be solving his latest puzzle.<p>

Seth Jones was on the edge of death, and House had every single answer except the right one. He couldn't find what he was missing and that greatly troubled him. House's uncanny diagnosing ability was all Seth had left to depend on. If the great Dr. Gregory House couldn't cure him, no one else could.

House heard his office door open, but he didn't turn around to see who had entered. He initially assumed it was one of the team members until he felt the atmosphere around him change. Only one person could carry that sexually tense air, yet oddly comforting aura with her wherever she went. He could just imagine the confident way she was sauntering towards him. House knew her head was held high and the rhythm of her heels softly tapping the carpet was created by her characteristic hip sway when she walked.

Cuddy placed a gentle hand on the small of his broad back and appeared to his left. "Hey," She said softly. "How's it going?"

He turned his head to get a full look at his boss. Clad in a black suit jacket, a red velvet shirt peeking from underneath her jacket, a black pencil skirt hugging her ever so closely, and her classic black heels, Lisa Cuddy was dressed to perfection.

House shivered once at her touch then sighed, rubbing his forehead with his right hand, "If by 'it' you mean my day, it's very stressful. Or if by 'it' you mean my patient, it's not going well...hence why my day is stressful."

Her hand dropped from his back and she positioned herself in front of him, her arms folding across her chest. Cuddy's expression was purely serious, but he could see her compassion in those blue green eyes of hers. "How much time do you have left?"

"Not much," Was his simple reply as his eyes fell to the floor. He looked up from the carpet and into her eyes, finding a familiar gleam to them. Something was on her mind.

House pushed himself forward, walked around her, then sat down at his desk. He looked up at her. She'd inched closer now, standing parallel to his desk. "Now, I know you didn't just come in here to check on me. What's on that busy little mind of yours?"

Cuddy sighed and her face twisted with guilt and uncertainty. "House, I hate even asking, but I really need you to pick up Rachel from school today and stay with her until my mom can get to my house."

House mentally kicked himself for even bothering to ask. Instantly, he posed the question, "Where's Wilson?"

She braced herself for the explanation, "He's going to an oncology conference downtown tonight and as his boss, I'm obligated to go with him."

House nodded and processed her request. He was on the verge of agreeing until he hit a road block. Her name was Arlene Cuddy. "Wait- you said your _mother?"_

Cuddy grimaced, "Yes."

"Does she know that we're okay?"

"Not exactly," She said slowly.

"Well, you think you can fit a phone call into your schedule?" His tone clearly reflected his agitation. "I like having my manhood, you know."

"I'll car her," Cuddy assured him. "So, you'll do it?"

House sighed in defeat, "Sure."

Cuddy exhaled heavily, relieved. "Thank you." She walked behind his chair and placed her hands on his wide shoulders. He was oddly more tense than usual, and she knew that it was due to his patient. "Just keep trying," She whispered, her hands sliding gracefully up and down his arms and across his upper back. "You can do it."

"I don't know," He mumbled.

"Well, I do. I have faith in you. You're a great doctor."

"I'll do what I can," House offered before turning his chair around to face her. His eyes were breast level, and as tempting as it was to stare, he tilted his chin upward and met her eyes. Cuddy leaned down and kissed his forehead, smiled once, then left him alone in his office.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Seth only had minutes left. Foreman was sitting in his room when House arrived.

"We've done everything we can," Foreman whispered to House. "I haven't broken the news yet."

"Leave it to me; I'm good at crashing the party," House said grimly. Foreman nodded and left him alone with the patient.

House sat down in the chair formerly occupied by Foreman and watched Seth. The guy was too young to die, and House felt solely responsible for cutting his life short. It was all because he couldn't figure out what was wrong fast enough.

"What's going on, doctor?" Seth suddenly asked.

House looked up to face him, but couldn't meet his eyes, "I don't know."

Fear welled in Seth's eyes, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know what;s wrong with you," House clarified.

"So what's going to happen? Am I going to die?"

Ah, the million dollar question. Seth had thrown House a curveball. He couldn't lie, not when Seth lacked even a small chance of life. Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to tell Seth that he would be fine, that he would leave within the next few days, that he knew what was wrong and could fix it. He couldn't lie, not this time.

House swallowed hard and managed to choke out the answer, "Yes."

Panic manifested on Seth's face, "There's nothing you can do?"

House's expression remained unchanged, yet the pain in his voice was evident when he could barely speak to the dying boy, "If there's an answer, I haven't found it...We've done all we can do."

Moments of silence passed before Seth spoke again, "So this is it?"

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it," House responded.

The patient was suddenly angry, "I came here because I heard that you're the best. You've cured so many people...why not me? Are you not who people say you are?"

House sighed and ran his fingers through his head, guilt washing over him. "I've done all I can, Seth. I've given my best but unfortunately, it's not good enough." House felt like slamming his head into a wall.

"That's what everyone says," Seth retorted. House let the tension between them fade. The patient's face softened and he began to ponder a very heavy subject from what House could see. "When I die...I feel like I've been a good person, but will that be good enough to get me to heaven?"

"I can't answer that," House admitted.

"Well, answer me this," Seth began. "If you were dying, would you feel good about the way you've lived your life? Would you feel like you've been good enough?"

House shook his head, "No."

"Why not?"

House shrugged, "I've done terrible things."

"Everyone has. Everyone can find forgiveness for what they've done," Seth argued.

House looked at him, skeptically. "You really believe that?"

"I would have died long before now if I didn't...I just want to be able to say that I'm proud of the way I've spent my time here," Seth said. He opened his mouth to speak again but his words were cut off by a heavy coughing fit. His breathing was shallow and he couldn't stop the coughs.

He was dying.

"W-what's...what's h-hap-pening?"

"You're dying," House said, unable to help him.

Seth reached out and grabbed House's forearm. He closed his eyes tightly as if he were praying to some divine power, then opened them one last time after his coughing subsided. "Everyone deserves a second chance...no matter what you've done, it's not too late."

Seth's voice drifted and his heart slowed to a stop. House felt a tear slide down his face and brushed it off quickly. Then, he brought his hand to Seth's face and closed the boy's eyes.

In that moment, House knew that he had to get away for the rest of the day. For reasons that he didn't understand, House felt attached to Seth. The boy was so full of life, so young...he didn't deserve to die at such a young age, no matter how naive House thought he was.

House pushed himself up from the chair and stormed out of his room. His team was waiting outside. One glance at House's face told them everything they needed to know. Thirteen was the first to try to console her boss. She followed him down the hall and tried to stop him.

"Where are you going?"

"Thirteen, I need a favor," He said, ignoring her question.

She stopped in front of him and looked up at him curiously, "What's going on?"

Shame filled his face, but his eyes were determined, "I'm supposed to pick up Rachel from school and babysit for Cuddy tonight until her devil mom arrives...but after this, I just need to be alone."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," The young doctor exclaimed. "No. I don't babysit, and I'm busy tonight. Try asking Taub; he needs all the kid experience he can get."

House scowled and limped over to Taub, "Taub, Daddy T, D-Taub, I need you to do something for me."

Taub sighed and braced himself, "What?"

House lowered his voice and mentally kicked himself with every word he spoke, "Pick up and babysit Rachel Cuddy tonight."

Taub's eyes widened tremendously in horror, "What the hell? Why me?"

House shrugged, "Seeing as you have two kids of your own, maybe you should practice being a dad on the Dean of Medicine's child." Taub opened his mouth in protest, but House cut him off, "So you'll do it? Great."

With that, House turned away from him and his face fell. Cuddy was going to kill him but he couldn't handle it. Seth's death had impacted him in a catastrophic way. House needed to be alone and detached from the world.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

After the oncology convention, Wilson drove Cuddy home. When they arrived at her house, something was out of place. An unfamiliar car sat in her drive way.

Cuddy knew it wasn't her mother's car, but she also knew that it couldn't be House's. Panic consumed her thoughts.

"That isn't his car...this is strange," She muttered as she nearly sprinted to her doorstep.

When her shaking hands finally managed to unlock her door, Arlene Cuddy and Taub were standing, looking as if they were engaged in a serious conversation.

"Taub, what the hell are you doing in my house?" Her voice was as calm as she could manage, but there was a razor sharp edge to it.

"That schmuck bailed and got one of his minions to get Rachel," Arlene interjected, her face fuming with anger.

Cuddy's heart nearly stopped. She felt a sinking feeling from her head all the way to the pit of her stomach. She almost felt like passing out.

Before she could burst into a fit of anger, Rachel came running in from the living room. "Momma?"

Cuddy tried to compose herself, "Hey baby girl." She turned to Taub, "Where's House?"

Rachel looked up at her mother and cocked her head to the side, "House?"

"Yes, House. We don't know where he is," Cuddy's tone clearly reflected her disappointment, as if her crestfallen expression didn't suffice.

"He must be playing hide and seek somewhere..." Rachel's voice trailed off and she looked around for possible hiding spots.

"No, honey, I don't think so," Cuddy felt sick to her stomach. "Wilson, can you call him?" Instantly, Wilson whipped out his cell phone.

"I don't know where he is. He just told me to be here," Taub admitted sadly.

"Damnit...Wilson?"

Wilson shook his head, "No answer."

"I can't believe he pulled this. He told me he'd be here."

"His patient died," Wilson offered, although he knew it wouldn't be an acceptable excuse for Cuddy.

"What the hell does that have to do with my daughter?" She spat angrily.

Wilson sighed, "You know how losing patients gets to him."

"I'm going to put the fear of God back into him," Cuddy threatened.

"Whoa now, Cuddy. Don't do something you'll regret. Get Rachel and we'll ride over to his apartment," Wilson offered in a desperate attempt to get Cuddy to calm down.

Cuddy shook her head, "I'm not exposing my daughter to whatever the loss of his patient has caused him to do. She can stay with my mother. Taub, I apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you. I'll make it up to you."

With that, Arlene, Taub, and Rachel were left alone in the doorway.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Cuddy stormed up to House's apartment like a bat out of hell. She arrived without any idea of what she was going to say when...or if she found him. All she knew was that it was going to be ugly.

Wilson knocked on his door, "House, open up..." He twisted the door knob and pushed the door open. "It's unlocked." Wilson entered first, followed by Cuddy. He looked around the dark apartment until he spotted House sitting in a chair, staring blankly into space. "House what-"

"Where the hell have you been?" Cuddy interrupted, her voice loud enough to be heard by the neighbors. "Did you conveniently schedule this over babysitting for me?"

"Calm down, Cuddy," Wilson whispered in her ear as he observed House's condition. He didn't appear to be drunk or stoned, but it was obvious that he was deeply disturbed.

"Don't tell me to calm down. My daughter left the school with a stranger, something I know I taught her to never do."

"Just breathe," Wilson cooed, but he knew there was no point in even trying. Cuddy was absolutely livid.

"I can't believe this," Cuddy muttered, mostly to herself.

A few moments of silence passed before House finally spoke, "I'm sorry."

"You're drunk," She accused.

"Negative," House protested. "Get a breathalyzer. Check for yourself. I'm not high either," He added.

"Then what's your excuse?"

House cringed, "I don't have one that you would approve of."

"No shit!" Cuddy exclaimed, pacing back and forth.

"House, what are you doing?" Wilson asked, clearly disappointed in his friend. House had been making a noticeable improvement, and now it was being undone.

"I have a lot on my mind," House said. "I lost my patient because I ran out of time. I let him down. Cuddy, I'm sorry for not getting Rachel and not keeping my word."

"You really screwed up," Cuddy spat.

"I'm sorry," House pleaded. His apology was as genuine as they came.

Cuddy's face softened slightly, "I know."

"Do you forgive me?"

She had to think for a moment and remembered one of her mother's rules from when she was a child. She had to forgive no matter how much she didn't want to at times. "Well, yes."

"I need to hear you say it."

"I said yes..."

"No, say you forgive me," House persisted. He was being oddly pushy for forgiveness.

Cuddy swallowed hard and through gritted teeth, "I forgive you."

House smiled in his own amusement. He shook his head and mumbled to himself, "He was right."

Wilson was the first to comment on his odd behavior, "House, what are you talking about? Who was right?"

House looked up at him, "It's nothing."

"House..." Cuddy began, but she caught herself trying to reason with him. He knew he would just deflect. Trying to talk to him would get her nowhere and would leave her with more questions than answers.

However, much to her surprise, he spoke, "My patient told me anyone could find forgiveness. I wanted to see if he was right."

The fire in Cuddy's eyes returned, "You pulled this stunt to prove a point? You set my daughter up to leave with a strange man she's never met!"

"Yes and no," House answered. "I never intended to prove a point, but now that I think about it, this has turned into quite the point proving opportunity."

She rubbed her temples, "Are you insane?"

House shrugged, "Probably."

"House," Wilson began, angrily. "When will you stop with the games?"

"This wasn't a game," House argued, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Then what was it?"

House thought for a moment, "It was stupid, first of all. I'm sorry. I asked for forgiveness because I had to get something right today."

Cuddy rolled her eyes, "Babysitting would have sufficed."

"Not for me."

"So it's all about you, then?" Cuddy was beginning to grow hysterical. "You had me fooled, House. I really thought you were changing, but you're still the selfish man I remember."

House struggled for his words, "That wasn't what I meant...damnit. I can do better."

"Now where I have I heard that before?" Cuddy said with a scowl.

"Cuddy, shut up before you say something you'll regret," House warned.

"Maybe you should take your own advice," She returned, using all of her energy to restrain herself from lurching towards him.

"Would you both just shut up?" Wilson yelled. "Look at you two. Just both of you...calm down or something. You're both beyond help. I'm going outside, Cuddy. Come get me when you're ready to go." Wilson turned and left the two of them alone.

House slumped into his chair, "We sure do know how to clear a room."

Cuddy clenched her eyes shut and took a few deeps breaths, calming herself. She couldn't believe that House had let her down like this. He knew what Rachel meant to her.

"How could you be so irresponsible?" Her tone was no longer anger. Now it only reflected sadness and disappointment.

"I don't know," House answered, shamefully.

"You seemed shock at the way I'm reacting," Cuddy noted. "How exactly were you planning to explain this one to me?"

House thought for a minute and shrugged, "I hadn't gotten to that part yet. You got here about ten minutes too early."

"Well, did you get to the part where I give you a speech about how this goes against what we're working so hard to build?"

"I assumed it was coming," House answered truthfully, avoiding her eyes.

"House, this is so childish," She scolded.

"I know. But you forgive me and I'm genuinely sorry. So we should forget about it."

"It doesn't work like that."

"Then how does it work?" House drilled. "I apologize, you forgive me, but then you still act like a bitch for a week?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes as her level of annoyance continually increased, "No. I was just expecting more from you, House."

"This is a bump in the road," House began. "Memory serves, you don't do well with them. This is me preparing you for several more when, or if, you come back to me. Now, obviously, this bump is extreme, bu smaller ones will pop up. This is what you're potentially signing up for. Can you handle it?"

"So this was a test?"

"No, not originally. Call it what you want, it doesn't change the fact that it was obviously a very bad idea...but answer the question," His voice was more pleading than it was commanding.

"I don't want you testing me, House," Cuddy warned. "Just because I gave up on you two years ago doesn't mean that you can just pull shit like this to show me what I'm getting myself into. I know what I'm getting into. I _know_ who _you_ are. You don't have to do stupid, juvenile things like this to open my eyes. They were never closed to the person you are to begin with."

"I didn't do this to be juvenile. I needed to get away after Seth died...and it just so happens that this proves a point along the way," House said, desperately trying to reason with her. To his dismay, he found that the more he said, the more angry she grew. If he lost her now, he would only have himself to blame.

"You had several motives in this."

"No, I didn't," He objected.

Cuddy turned towards the door, "I don't know if you're satisfied with a shitty outcome, or if this was the outcome you wanted all along, but I'm going home. My daughter needs to go to sleep, and my mother needs to go home. And I suppose I should pay Taub for filling in for you. Or maybe I should pay my mom to prevent her from killing you in your sleep."

"Goodnight..." House said, realizing that there was nothing he could do to stop her. He heard the door slam and placed his head in his hands.

He didn't know what to expect at work tomorrow, but he wasn't giving up this time. He couldn't lose her for good, not because of his senseless mistake. House had to make her see.


	39. Chapter 39

**Thanks so much for reading! :D**

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><p>House didn't sleep at all that night. He tossed and turned trying to figure out a way to get himself out of the mess he alone had created. He had already apologized but he knew that an apology wouldn't be the end of it. Cuddy needed more than an apology. She needed proof that he could handle being with her.<p>

Reluctantly, House sat up in his bed and rubbed his thigh in an attempt to soothe his usual morning aches. With an exasperated sigh, he stood up, not wanting to face the day.

When he arrived at the hospital- late, of course- he went straight to Wilson's office and banged loudly on his door but instead of waiting, he pushed the door open and allowed himself inside.

"Usually, you're supposed to wait until I say you can come in," Wilson spat, not even looking up at his visitor, though he knew perfectly who had barged in.

"It's urgent," House responded, his voice flat and dull.

It was then that Wilson looked up and saw House's alarming appearance. His eyes were bloodshot from his lack of sleep, and the worry lines in his forehead were wrinkled to the maximum. The troubled doctor hadn't thought twice about combing his hair. Wilson sat back in his chair and sighed, "What the hell were you thinking?"

House sat down in one of the chairs in Wilson's office and shook his head, "I'm not sure that I was thinking."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," House lied. "I'm just angry at myself...but at least she wasn't left at the school," he reasoned, a feeble attempt to justify his actions, though he knew he couldn't.

Wilson rolled his eyes, "She got in the car with a stranger."

House threw his hands up, "It was _Taub!"_

"Rachel doesn't know Taub," Wilson countered.

He looked at the floor, "At least I found someone to fill in for me," he grumbled mostly to himself.

"I don't know," Wilson started. "Cuddy is still furious. To be honest, I am too," Wilson paused, watching for House's reaction. He didn't move. Wilson continued, "I don't even know why I keep you in my life sometimes."

House was stung by Wilson's comment, though he tried desperately not to show it. Instead, House fought back, "You couldn't get rid of me even if you wanted to."

Wilson chuckled darkly, "Yes I could, and believe me, I want to."

"Then why am I still here?" House challenged. "You want me out of your life, claim that you can get rid of me, yet here I am."

"I don't know," Wilson sighed, accepting his defeat.

Wilson knew that he could never get rid of House, and a part of him didn't want to. Sure, he openly admitted that he wanted House to be out of his life, but he knew that it was a lie deep down. During the two years that House had been gone, he had truly missed him, past occurrences be damned.

"What's it gonna take to fix this deal with Cuddy?" House suddenly asked.

Wilson's eyes widened in surprise, "You're asking me for advice?" One look at House's face told Wilson how serious he really was.

"I don't know what else to do. You're sensitive; tell me what to do."

"You're desperate, aren't you?"

House braved a glance at his friend, "You have no idea."

Wilson saw the hurt in his deep blue eyes and knew he had to help, "Well, getting her to at least talk to you might be a start."

"And how would I go about doing that?"

"Go to the clinic and do your hours," Wilson suggested.

"We're in the process of getting a new patient; I don't have time for that," House retorted.

Wilson rolled his eyes, realizing that House just wanted to avoid doing clinic duty, "And you have a team of four people to handle it. You also have this crazy thing called a cell phone that they can contact you with. You're missing the point," he paused then gave House his instructions, "Go to the clinic because she's there a lot and you're bound to run into her."

"No," House rejected, shaking his head. "That's stupid. I don't want to do that."

Wilson would have had better luck talking a wall. "Relationships," he began, "are about putting the other person above what you want. If you want Cuddy, stop being so selfish and put her wants and needs above everything else. She'll do the same for you."

The diagnostician sat in silence for a few minutes then nodded, "You're right."

"Go, work, and try to get her to talk to you. At some point, she'll have to stop avoiding you. Then, if she confronts you about it, tell her the truth," Wilson lowered his voice. "It's not about you, House. It's her. And in her perspective, it's not about her. For her, it's you. That's how it works."

"Why didn't you take your own advice?" House asked incredulously. "Seems like you would have kept every woman you were with if you had."

Wilson frowned, "I did take my advice...they didn't."

"So what makes you think Cuddy will?" House tried.

"She already has. She loves you, House. Don't screw this up."

House shook his head, still unsure if this was a good course of action, "Doing a few clinic hours won't fix this."

"It's a start," Wilson assured him. "At least show her you're capable of giving a crap about something she cares about. And it isn't even about the hours anyway. It's about putting you two in the same area until she can't avoid you. Then, you have to do your favorite thing in the world," He paused as House physically braced himself. "You'll actually have to talk to her. God forbid you actually display human emotion."

"Funny, Wilson," House retorted.

"No, it's a fact."

"Touché."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

House couldn't believe he was actually doing his clinic duty. _Damn you, Wilson,_ he thought to himself as he put yet another finished patient file into a stack on the nurse's desk. So far he had diagnosed the common cold, a case of food poisoning, and a classic case of idiocy. To him, this was such an unnecessary part of his job. His intelligence was better spent where it mattered.

He was reviewing another file when the Dean of Medicine, who had been watching him for quite some time, appeared next to him, "What are you doing down here?"

House jumped, not realizing that she was standing there. He quickly composed himself and said, without looking at her, "Clinic hours."

Cuddy had to try her hardest to keep her jaw from dropping, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

Again, avoiding her eyes, House spoke, "I'm doing clinic hours. C-l-i-n-i-c h-"

"Alright, alright," Cuddy stopped him, "I get it. But the part I don't get is why? Are you really that bored?"

House slapped the file shut and dropped it on the counter. He turned to walk away, "Can't always know the answer to everything, Dr. Cuddy."

Cuddy tensed, unwilling to accept his answer, "House, in my office. Now."

House smiled in spite of himself. He'd thrown the bait, and she fell for it. He turned on his heels and followed her to her office.

She pushed the door open and nearly let it slam in his face. He couldn't tell if she'd done that on purpose or not. She stopped in front of her desk and wheeled around, her arms folded across her chest. Lisa Cuddy was not a happy camper. Her eyes were narrowed ever so slightly, and worry lines were invading her forehead.

House stood in front of her, expectantly. "Yes?" he asked.

"Why are you doing your hours? You never do your hours."

"I'm a doctor," House said, "this is in my job description."

Cuddy shook her head, "That answer isn't going to work for me."

"And why not?" He asked.

"Because it isn't the truth," Cuddy said. House knew he couldn't get out of this one.

He sighed, "I decided to do my clinic hours because I knew it would mean something to you...and I needed to get you to talk to me," he admitted, shame flooding his face.

Her posture relaxed ever so slightly, "This is about last night, isn't it?"

"Of course it is," House said. "I apologized, Cuddy. I know I was wrong, but I made sure someone would fill in for me. Admittedly, Taub was a very poor choice, but I wouldn't leave your daughter at the school."

Cuddy sighed and rubbed her temples, "I can't...I can't keep wondering if you'll come through when I need you to. Someone won't always be there to 'fill in' for you, House. I need someone I can always count on."

"I know."

"What's going to happen next time you lose a patient when I need you?"

"I'll put you first," House said, confidently.

"Can I trust that?"

"Yes," House answered. "That's what I've finally learned about relationships. I'll look out for you, and you'll look out for me."

"That's the way it's supposed to be, yes...but is that something you can handle?"

House nodded.

Cuddy sighed, "I don't think you can."

"Yes I can," he said, his voice growing louder. "I've already lost you once, Cuddy. I'm tired of this argument. I apologized, you forgave me...enough with this 'will I be good enough?' crap."

Cuddy nodded and took a couple steps towards him, "You're right. I'm sorry. I just want this to work the way it's supposed to, but I realize that what we have will never be functional."

"Of course it won't be. It's us."

"I'm just glad you didn't...you didn't take-"

"Vicodin," House finished.

"Yeah."

"Me too," he agreed. "Tomorrow is Saturday...how about I take Rachel to the park and make this up to you?"

"You'd want to do that?" Cuddy asked. He nodded. "Can I come too?"

"Of course, mom."

Cuddy smiled warmly, still surprised by his request. "Okay...let's do it."

"By it...do you mean sex...or?"

"The park, House. Let's go to the park tomorrow."

He could swear that he saw her crack a smile. "Deal...I'm gonna go back to the clinic," He announced.

Cuddy shook her head, smiling fully now, "We technically made up; you don't have to do your hours anymore, although it would be nice of you to make up some of your clinic hour debt that's been building up for years."

"No, I want to," He said.

"Seriously?" Cuddy thought she must be dreaming.

"Not a chance."

"House!" She exclaimed, swatting his arm playfully.

"Don't ask a question you already know the answer to, Cuddy." With that, he limped out of her office.

A day at the park with House and Rachel...for Cuddy it was almost too good to be true. She couldn't wait for the day to be over.

Another part of her swelled with worry, though. She was still nervous about her relationship with House. No, the two of them weren't back together, not quite...but she was still fearing the future. Would he come through for her? She always assumed that he wouldn't, but then again, she hadn't always been there for him either. House wasn't the only guilty party in this situation. They both needed to work harder at this, and she knew tomorrow at the part would be a solid start.


	40. Chapter 40

**Hello, hello! I didn't know when I'd get to update again, so I'm just gonna go ahead and post this. Enjoy!**

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><p>The next morning, Cuddy and Rachel made their way to House's apartment. On the drive over, Cuddy wondered if her daughter was excited as she was.<p>

"Are you ready for the park, Rachel?"

"Yeah, Momma. Do you think House is excited to go with us?"

Cuddy smiled warmly, "Yes, I think he is."

House was ready to go when the two Cuddy girls knocked on the door of his apartment. He greeted both of them with a genuine smile and followed them to Cuddy's car. Once Rachel was settled in the back seat, House climbed into the passenger seat and watched the scenery change in front of them as Cuddy drove.

Twice, House was tempted to reach over and grab Cuddy's hand but he refrained for several reasons. One, it might startle her, and two, he wasn't entirely sure she would be comfortable with that just yet. He didn't push his luck, and folded his hands in his lap.

Once the trio was at the park, Rachel immediately bounded towards the playground. House eyed a bench was seated perfectly in front of the playground and headed in its direction.

"Go on, Rachel. We'll be on the bench, okay?" Cuddy called. Rachel turned around for a brief moment, nodded, then continued running to the sand pit.

House sat down on the bench and Cuddy took her place to his right.

The two adults watched Rachel playing in the sand and they couldn't help but smile.

"She's a good kid," House commented.

Cuddy smiled, "She is."

"And you're a great mother," he added.

"I don't have to work too hard," Cuddy explained, praising her daughter. "She's an amazing child. She's so well behaved. I never have to worry. She's just so full of life...I got lucky."

"So did she," House said.

"Thank you."

Silence settled over the two for a while, but neither of them minded. It was oddly peaceful just to sit and soak in the silence.

Eventually, House's leg began to act up and his right hand began massaging it to dull the pain. Cuddy glanced over at him and her face fell. Without even thinking, she pushed his hand away from his thigh.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" He asked, unsure of what Cuddy would do next.

What she did do surprised both of them. She began to massage the area where his hand had been before she'd pushed it off.

"You don't have to do that," he told her, slightly embarrassed by her gesture.

"It's okay. I want to," She replied simply. "Why are you so afraid of amputation?"

House was reluctant to answer. This was the one topic he tried to avoid the most. "I have my reasons," he mumbled.

"I just want you to be happy," Cuddy said. Her voice was almost pleading.

"There are very few things on this earth that can make me happy, and getting my leg cut off isn't one of them," House returned, trying desperately to close the conversation.

"What do you propose you do then?"

House shrugged, "I could go back to physical therapy."

"I support that. I don't want you to hurt anymore."

"I can handle it," House said as confidently as he could manage.

Cuddy shook her head, "You shouldn't have to _handle_ anything."

"It's the way it is, Cuddy," House returned, trying to reason with her.

"It doesn't have to be," Cuddy stopped rubbing his leg and folded her hands in her lap. "Are you afraid of what I'll think, House?" He didn't answer. "House, answer me."

"I'm afraid of a lot of things," House admitted.

Cuddy sighed, defeated, "You're not gonna talk about it are you?"

"Not now. I want to talk about us."

"How can we talk about that when you won't even talk about your leg?" Cuddy retorted.

"Because we are more important than my leg," House explained, standing up. "Let's take a walk?"

Cuddy was hesitant, "What about Rachel?"

"She'll be fine. We'll keep her in sight."

"I don't know..."

"Cuddy, look at how small this park is," He pointed to a tree in the distance. "Let's walk to that tree and come back. She'll be in full view the entire time."

Cuddy stood up, "Fine."

As they walked, Cuddy reached out her hand for House to take. He tried to hide his surprise at the gesture. With a soft smile, he laced his fingers with hers.

House, oddly enough, was the first to engage in the conversation, "Are you ready?"

Cuddy didn't want to be forced into the spotlight just yet, so she returned the question, "Are you?"

Her trick wouldn't work on him. House grinned and gave her hand a squeeze, "I asked you first."

_Damnit,_ Cuddy thought. A sigh escaped through her parted lips, unsure of what to say. "I don't know. I want to be," she struggled. "I'm tired of just dancing around the inevitable. What about you?"

"Do you think I'm ready?"

_The million dollar question,_ she mused. "I don't know," came her honest reply.

"I just want to be sure we're doing it right," House said, a little unsure of himself.

Cuddy nodded; she knew.

"I've tried for two years to fix myself. I don't know if it worked...I don't think people can just change. I feel like I have fixed myself," House said, his face twisting into a grim expression, "but ultimately that's for you to decide."

Cuddy slipped her lower lip between her teeth, contemplating on what to say next. "I know you've been genuine in your attempts to make your life better. I'm proud of you and-"

At that moment, Rachel appeared at Cuddy's side, "Momma!"

Cuddy's voice lowered as she addressed House, "We'll talk later, I promise," she looked down at Rachel, "Hey, baby. What's going on?"

"Can I walk with you and House?"

"Of course," Cuddy said as she stretched out her free hand, "Come on, hold Momma's hand."

The trio walked hand in hand through the park, looking more like a little family than ever before. They were almost there, and Cuddy could feel it coming in the near future. They had been avoiding it for so long because both she and House were so paranoid about doing everything perfectly. As a perfectionist, it should have delighted her...but instead she hated it now. She didn't expect them to be perfect; it was impossible. And now she realized that she didn't want their relationship to be perfect; it wouldn't be true to each other. She knew how dysfunctional the two of them were, especially when put together. It worked; however, and she wanted that life.

As they walked in the park, she got a taste of what her family would be like. Now more than ever, she craved it, desired it, and most of all, she needed it. Every second that she held the hands of the two most incredible people in her life, the more Cuddy realized that this was it for her. Rachel and House. An unlikely combination, yes, but it was _her_ combination, _her_ dysfunctional family, _her_ life.

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

After the three of them had returned back to the playground, Rachel insisted that Cuddy and House push her on the swings. Neither House nor Cuddy objected.

While Rachel was preoccupied pretending she was a pilot as her mother pushed her, Cuddy turned to House, "My mother isn't going to let this go, you know that right?"

"How could I not know?" House returned as he cringed. "The woman has had a price on my head for two years."

"I don't know what to do."

"It's my mistake," House reasoned, "I have to fix it."

Cuddy bit her lip nervously, "She's coming for dinner tonight."

House's eyes widened, "_What?_ This soon? I need a day to at least _begin_ my battle plan. What is this, Troy, Sparta, and the Trojan Horse? Wanna guess who's a Trojan?"

She clamped her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, "Please try to fix this like an adult, and I'll help in any way that I can."

House sighed, "If I must."

Dinner with Arlene Cuddy. What could possibly go wrong?


	41. Chapter 41

**Hey guys. I'm sorry! I have no idea what in the hell happened with my other update's spacing. But I replaced it with this one. Hopefully it worked. Again, my sincerest apologies. Damn technology.**

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><p>The time had come for House to face Arlene Cuddy for the first time in two years. His recent screw up wasn't helping his game plan, either. He was anxious, and he was going into the situation without any expectations. There were multiple different courses she could take, he reasoned, and he wasn't about to waste time trying to predict which path she would take. All that mattered was that this dinner could end on an encouraging note, or it could shoot everything straight to hell.<p>

When the doorbell rang, Cuddy put on her best game face and approached the door alone, leaving House in the kitchen.

"Hey, mom. Come in," Cuddy offered.

The elder Cuddy narrowed her eyes, "Is that lunatic Gregory House here?"

_Yeah, mom, I'm wonderful. Thanks for asking,_ Cuddy silently spat as she did everything in her power to keep her eyes from rolling. "Yes," She confirmed. "He's here."

Arlene braced herself as if she were about to charge past her daughter. "I swear-" She began.

"Whoa, mom, wait," Cuddy pleaded. "Just listen. House and I are fine, okay? He apologized, we talked it out...everything is good."

Arlene rolled her eyes, "You sure know how to pick them, Lisa. First, the man drives through your house, then he-"

"Mom, drop it. Please," Cuddy interjected. "As I said, everything is good...no need to bring up the past."

At that moment, the man himself made his entrance, "Am I interrupting anything?" His sarcasm was bleeding.

Cuddy flashed him a glare, but kept her cool, "No. I'm going to go finish up with making dinner..."

"Don't leave me," House mouthed, but she left anyway.

An awkward silence settled over House and Arlene, neither one of them really desiring to start a conversation with the other.

Arlene was the first to speak, "You have a lot of guts showing your face around here."

"Here it comes," He muttered.

She stepped closer to him, "My daughter can't even call me on the phone without mentioning something about the great Gregory House."

House scoffed, "Look at me, could you resist this either?"

"Cut the crap, Greg," Arlene's tone was threatening, but she appeared oddly at ease next to him. "No matter how many things you manage to screw up in your relationship with Lisa, she always comes back to you. And no matter how much she screws up, you always come back to her," She paused and shook her head, "You're an idiot, but so is she. That's why you're perfect for each other. No one else would dare to attempt to make it work with either of you. You're far from perfect, and Lisa demands perfection...how it works is beyond me, but perhaps your level of imperfection is just right for her. It excites her."

House stood, stunned. "I was expecting verbal abuse, not a presidential address."

"Shut up, Greg. You know it's true. You really piss me off, and I think you're a pompous ass-"

"I have a load of nice things to say about you too."

"But you're in love with my daughter," Arlene continued, choosing to ignore House's interruption. "I know you can make her happy."

"Are you angry with me?"

Arlene shrugged, "I was. I wanted to kill you for hurting her the way you did two years ago. But Lisa begged me to let it go. If she trusts you, I suppose I can too; Lisa usually has good judgment, despite her past failures with men," she explained.

"Well, you've done the opposite of what most would have expected," House commented, grateful that she hadn't attacked him.

"I have a way of surprising people."

"That element of surprise must run in the Cuddy family."

"Just promise me that you'll treat her right."

"I plan to if we ever get there," House said, his tone indicating his impatience.

"What do you mean?"

House's eyes shifted suspiciously, "I don't feel comfortable discussing my love life with you."

"I'm her mother."

House opened his mouth to speak, but Cuddy announced that dinner was ready.

The dinner went as smoothly as possible. House and Arlene never finished their conversation, but both of them were at peace. Cuddy managed to relax when she realized that her mother wasn't going to annihilate the man she loved.

Later that night after Arlene had left and Cuddy had put Rachel to bed, House and Cuddy were seated on the couch, allowing silence to fill the room.

Suddenly, House felt Cuddy sobbing next to him. "Are you okay?" He asked, alarmed.

"I'm great," She laughed.

"...then why are you crying? I'm lost here."

"I'm happy," She answered. "Today...that walk in the park, the three of us holding hands, pushing Rachel on the swing...I felt like we were a family."

House was slightly shocked by her words and a simple "yeah" was all he could muster.

"I want it so bad," Cuddy admitted.

"You can have it."

Cuddy shifted herself to where she was facing him, "Is that what you want? A family?"

"I want you."

"And Rachel?"

House smiled warmly, "I've grown to really like the kid."

Cuddy returned his smile, "She's quite fond of you too."

He frowned, "I'm probably not the best choice for a father figure..."

"You're what I want," Cuddy assured him.

"Even my screwed up ways?"

"I want every bit of you," she clarified, fully confident in her decision.

House visibly relaxed and smiled, "Then what's left of me is yours to keep. Just say when."

Cuddy shook her head, in awe of the brilliant man seated beside her, "You're the most incredible man I've ever known."

House's heart burned at her familiar words, "That sounds oddly familiar."

"I mean it," she said. "I know we'll have bumps in the road every now and then, but as long as we are there for each other, we can get over them together. We'll let each other down, but I wouldn't want to take this risk with anyone else but you."

His eyes widened, "Are you proposing to me?"

"Shut up and let me finish," Cuddy commanded, although her mind briefly wandered to the possibility of ever getting hitched to House. She suddenly wanted that too.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Anyway," Cuddy continued, "I'm tired of beating around the bush. I know we still have some unresolved issues, but they'll come in the future. I just...I want to be with you. Can you and I work...again?"

House hesitated, "Am I allowed to talk now, Doctor Cuddy?"

She nodded.

"Then the answer is yes. Yes, we can do it. I made the mistake of not running after you several times before."

Cuddy shook her head, "You don't have to chase me, House."

"I...I love you," He paused, a cheeky grin growing on his face, "_Lisa._"

Her eyes widened with shock, and she caught herself recoiling, "Lisa?"

"Sorry," he apologized, "I just wanted to try it...I love you, _Cuddy._ Better?"

"Much better, _Greg._"

"Greg?"

Cuddy chuckled, "I just wanted to try it, too."

"Can we not do that? It just doesn't work with us."

"Yeah, you're right," Cuddy paused, growing serious again. "As you were saying?"

"Right," He said, getting back on topic. "I love you."

"And I love you."

"So this is it?" House asked.

"Yes, I think so. It was going to come sooner or later, and honestly I don't know how much longer I can hold myself back," Cuddy admitted. She needed the man more than she would care to admit.

"I'm sorry for everything."

She almost wanted to slap him. "Me too, but we're starting over. Let's leave the past where it belongs." She planted a soft kiss on his lips before adding, "We're gonna need to report this to HR."

"Again?"

"Yes. Things are a little different this time," Cuddy explained.

"Fine, mom."


	42. Chapter 42

**Happy Thanksgiving everyone!**

**Sorry it took so long to update.**

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>The following Monday, House and Cuddy made their way into the hospital, both clearly at peace with the world around them. The hospital was hectic that morning, but Cuddy took it all with grace.<p>Cuddy knew that Princeton-Plainsboro would be buzzing with gossip as soon as the word was out that she and House were back together. Some would be happy, some would be angry. She couldn't even begin to force herself to care either way. Lisa Cuddy was finally content and not a damn thing would get in her way.<p>

She gripped House's arm to keep him from walking in the opposite direction, "Nice try, House, but we're going to report this to HR."

House narrowed his eyes, "You just feel the need to gloat to everyone don't you?"

"You caught me," she retorted, yanking him towards the elevator. "Just try not to...you know, say something out of line and overly typical of yourself."

"Me? Say something out of line? God, don't you know me better than that?"

"Your sarcastic tone scares me, but nevertheless, you're going to this meeting if I have to drag you."

House gazed thoughtfully, "You know, if you added chains to that, changed into a bikini, and talked dirty to me, I probably wouldn't mind if you had to drag me."

"It's always about sex isn't it?" Cuddy asked sharply, though her tone wasn't accusing.

"I never said one thing about sex, you pervert."

She narrowed her eyes at him and stood directly in front of him as the elevator doors opened, "Please behave." Without another word, she exited the elevator, House following at her heels.

Cuddy knocked once before letting herself into the Human Resources office of PPTH. The man behind the desk shifted uneasily as House entered the office after her.

"So you're back...again?" He asked, unsettled by the sight of the Dean with House.

"Yes," Cuddy answered as she took a seat.

Reluctantly, the man winced and picked up his pen, "How would you describe your relationship this time?"

Cuddy took a deep breath, glanced momentarily at House then spoke, "I'm in love with him," Her heart lurched, unsure of how much detail she cared to go into, especially to a complete stranger that was less than enthusiastic about their relationship. "I was before, but I didn't realize how much until now."

A sly gleam snaked into House's eyes, "We haven't even had make up sex yet," he interjected.

Cuddy closed her eyes tightly, "House."

"What's different this time?" The man asked, ignoring House's comment.

"I just told you we haven't had sex yet. Last time-"

"We're both committed to making this last," Cuddy blurted in a desperate attempt to save the conversation.

Doubt crossed the man's face and he scribbled notes onto his piece of paper. It was entirely against his job description, but he dared to ask, "Is it possible that the two of you will get married?"

Cuddy flinched, uneasy with the sudden shift in the conversation. "We haven't gotten there yet," she answered, trying to appear calm. "Marriage may be a bit too conventional for us." Her voice had a disappointed edge to it that only House could detect.

"But I thought you always wanted to get married?" House challenged. The man blinked up from his paper to House's face.

Cuddy flashed House an irritated glance, "We'll figure it out, House. Let's just get through this meeting."

The HR employee concocted an excuse for his asking the question in order to settle the tension in the room, "The reason I asked is because I'm curious...If...if it gets to that point, will you still be able to maintain a working relationship? Marriage can add more stress and-"

"I think we've got it under control," House answered, cutting him off.

The man knew that was his cue to shut up and wrap up the meeting. "Right," he said. "You won't need to re-sign love contracts or anything...you're free to go. Enjoy your day."

"Good deal," House said with mock merriment. "Let's go, Cuddy."

Cuddy stood slowly and followed House, turning around only once to thank the man for his time.

Once they were out of earshot, House whirled around to face her, "Are you happy now?"

Cuddy looked down at the floor then back up to him, "Yes. But you aren't."

"Of course I am," House protested. "I just think that guy is a nosy idiot, but he doesn't influence my happiness."

"I suppose. Everything just got so tense once marriage was brought up," she noted.

"You were so tense that your ass nearly clenched a hole in the man's chair," House remarked. He noticed Cuddy physically deflate and his face suddenly softened, "I didn't mean that in a bad way."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I just know that for some typical feminine reason, the act of tying the knot means something to you, and you want it to mean something to me," House explained.

"_Does_ it mean something to you?" Cuddy asked, then braced herself for his answer.

House bit his lip, "Not really, but sometimes things change."

"You always say people never change, even though I think you have."

"Well, normally I'd say that they don't. But I know situations change."

With that, House turned around sharply and limped away, leaving Cuddy in the middle of the hallway.


	43. Chapter 43

**I'm not too pleased with this update, but I needed a filler before I post the next one just so it'll flow better. So, enjoy. Have a Merry Christmas! **

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><p>Life went on as usual throughout the halls of Princeton-Plainsboro. The news of House and Cuddy's reconciliation rocked the hospital, bringing displays of shock, dismay, and sometimes even a twinge of happiness from the various nurses and doctors. A few employees were outraged, yet they would never dare openly question Cuddy's judgment. Others were delighted that their beloved Dean was finally content with her life.<p>

Wilson, the designated middleman for the couple, was elated to discover that his friends decided to give their relationship another try, yet his role in their partnership left him on his toes. He figured it would only be a matter of time until he had to meddle into their affairs and try to help settle some petty argument the two were destined to have.

"You know the peace will wear off right?" He asked House a few weeks later.

"You just had to be a pessimist, didn't you?"

Wilson rolled his eyes, "Look at the pot calling the kettle black!"

"I'm not a pessimist, I'm just not a very good optimist," House retorted. "At least I'm making an attempt to enjoy the rebirth of our relationship without thinking about what I'll potentially screw up. You don't think I don't know it's coming? I don't need you to remind me."

Truth be told, House didn't screw up the way everyone expected. Even Cuddy, though she'd never admit it, was pleasantly surprised at how smooth their relationship was progressing.

One night as she was working late, House strolled into her office and sat in a chair in front of her desk.

Cuddy briefly looked away from her computer screen, "Why are you still here?"

House's shift had ended nearly an hour ago. "I don't know," He said. "I guess I just wanted to offer my company to you. You look dreadfully bored."

"Welcome to my life," Cuddy grumbled.

His jaw dropped, "How can you even hint that your life is boring? You've got me!"

Cuddy smiled, her tired eyes wandering back to her computer, "I didn't mean it like that, House." She paused and shut her laptop down, "Now I know you didn't come in here just to keep me entertained while I slave over these reports. What do you want?"

"I haven't done anything to screw up, have I?" He asked.

Stunned at his question, Cuddy quickly shoot her head, "No. Why? Have you done something that I'm just not aware of yet?"

"No, not at all. I'm just...trying not to. Really hard, actually."

A warm smile gracefully slid onto Cuddy's face, "Don't stress so much over this, all right?"

"Right. Like that's going to happen."

"House, you're an ass, but you're my ass."

House suppressed a smile, "I could never be your ass. I'd like to tap your-"

"Okay, okay," Cuddy interrupted. "Bad word choice on my part. My mistake. What I meant was that you may slip up a few times, and I know I will too. But the beauty of this whole thing we have is that we can overlook the flaws in each other."

House nodded.

"I don't expect you to be perfect. I hope you don't expect me to be perfect either. Don't sweat it...you've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

House frowned, "Too much."

"Well, stop. I love you. End of story."

"How much longer are you gonna be here?" House asked, anxious to leave.

"A few more minutes. Why?"

"Let's grab a bite to eat," he suggested.

Cuddy shook her head, "Most places are closed."

"I know a place that isn't. It's called my apartment."

"You're going to cook for me?" She asked flatly.

House nodded, pleased with himself, "I'm a fabulous chef, thank you very much. What do you say?"

"Rachel..."

"Called your mom. She took Rachel to her house."

This man had an answer for everything.

"Fine."

House ended up ordering takeouts seeing as it was quicker than the extravagant dinner he'd planned out for Cuddy originally. Cuddy wasn't disappointed.


	44. Chapter 44

**Hey everyone! I'm very sorry about taking so long. I've just been dealing with a lot of personal issues in real life lately, but everything is all right now and I really want to finish this story for you guys. I only have a few updates left after this one. Thanks for reading!**

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><p>Six months passed. House and Cuddy's relationship was still in full force, and the arguments they had were fairly minor and mostly work related. Tonight was no exception. As expected, House had tried to perform a risky procedure on a patient, but Cuddy had shot it down. House didn't focus on the risks, and Cuddy was more concerned about the legal repercussions.<p>

They were walking up to Cuddy's doorstep when House shot an accusing glance at the Dean, "If you hadn't interfered, my patient may still have a fighting chance!"

Cuddy whirled around and rolled her eyes, "Your choice of treatment was ridiculous!" She raised her voice, "As administrator, I couldn't have let you go through with it for legal reasons."

House shook his head and shrugged, "And now she's gonna die."

"No she isn't," Cuddy retorted, lowering her voice. "Put your brain to work and figure it out," she noticed the way he was looking at her. He was clearly giving her all the blame. "And don't you pin this on me," she added.

House held up his hands defensively, "If you hadn't stepped in, she'd be set to go home tomorrow."

"Well, now she isn't," Cuddy remarked. She wasn't going to change her mind. "You can fix this," she paused. "We're at the doorstep; let's drop it, okay?"

"Whatever."

"I mean it, House. I don't want Rachel to see us fighting," she opened the door and walked through with House trailing behind.

"We're not fighting," he grumbled. "We're having a professional disagreement."

Cuddy ignored House's comment as Rachel and the babysitter came strolling from the kitchen.

"Momma! House!" the little girl squealed. "Today was great. I drew a picture of a puppy and Marina told me I should be an artist."

Cuddy smiled, "Wow! Good job!" She quickly paid Marina and returned her attention to her daughter.

"Marina gave me my supper," Rachel announced with heavy eyes. She had a full stomach and now she was sleepy.

"Come on, let's get you ready for bed."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Later that night after Cuddy had tucked Rachel in, she and House were enjoying a silent dinner.

"What do you want more than anything?" House asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

Cuddy looked up from her salad, "Random?"

"Just answer, Cuddy," the irritation in his voice was palpable.

"I already have everything I could ever want. I have my job, my daughter, and my boyfriend. I'm happy."

House rolled his eyes. _Typical female answer._ "Well," he began, carefully forming his words. "What if one of those things changed slightly?"

Cuddy's face wrinkled in confusion, "I'm not quitting my job, Rachel is stable, and you…" she blanched and nearly choked on her food, "You're not breaking up with me, are you?"

His eyes widened, "God no."

She visibly relaxed, "Then I don't have anymore ideas."

"I know one thing you want."

"You sound so sure," She challenged.

"Because I am."

"Elaborate?"

House was clearly struggling, "What if we made this whole family thing official?"

She set down her fork, "I'm not following you."

"Damnit, Cuddy!" House pinched the bridge of his nose. How was she missing something so obvious?

"What?" She asked, startled by his impatience. "I didn't know my temporary lack of understanding would be so offensive. Why don't you stop beating around the bush and tell me what's on your mind?"

House fiddled around in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

A sudden realization hit her like a freight train, "House, what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you what I know you want," he informed her in his matter-of-fact way.

"Is it something you want?"

He shrugged, "By convention, I'd have to say no. But I'm feeling unconventional."

"House, what's going on?"

"I apologize in advance if this isn't the smoothest proposal you've ever experienced," he warned.

Cuddy's eyes widened, "House…you really don't have to do this…"

House took a deep breath and opened the box, revealing a silver ring with a diamond planted on the top of it. "I'm not really sure how to say this, but if I'm supposed to be happy, then I'm supposed to be happy with you…I love you…so, that being said: how about we tie the knot?"

Cuddy nearly giggled to herself. Twenty years ago if someone had told her that Gregory House would be asking her to marry him, she would have never believed them. But, here he was.

Suddenly, she turned serious, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Only if you are. Now, I'd really like an answer because this ring is non refundable…and it wasn't exactly a ring from the gum ball machine."

"Right, sorry. Yes, House. I will. But you hate weddings…why the hell would you want to get married?"

House sighed, "I don't. But you do, and I'm conveniently your boyfriend."

"House…"

"Cuddy, don't. I know this is something you've always wanted for whatever reason, and this is something I know I can give you. Stop trying to figure out why and just go with it."

Cuddy nodded and smiled, "Wow."

House eyed her and slipped the ring on her finger, "What?"

"This is a big step for you, House."

House shrugged, "It's a risk I'm willing to take."


	45. Chapter 45

The next morning, House strode into Wilson's office without bothering to knock and positioned himself directly in front of his friend's desk, grinning from ear to ear.

Wilson looked up from his laptop and scrutinized House. There was something in his friend's crystal blue eyes that Wilson had never seen before. It was a gleam that hinted at genuine happiness. Wilson had his doubts, given House's history. He couldn't tell if House was actually elated or if he had driven directly into mischief.

"Guess what?" House asked.

Wilson shook his head, "Do I even want to know?"

"Well, it concerns you."

Wilson's expression dropped and panic filled his face, "Damnit, did you use my credit card?"

House opened his mouth to speak, paused, shrugged once, and continued, "Yes…but that wasn't what I wanted to tell you."

Wilson, slightly perturbed by House using his credit card, sighed and leaned back in his chair, "What is it?"

"Cuddy and I are getting married."

Wilson's jaw nearly dropped, "For real?"

"Yes, for real," House confirmed. "I proposed last night."

"I suppose a congratulations is in order," Wilson said.

"Ehh. I'm not a big fan of weddings," House admitted, "but I know it's something she's always wanted."

Wilson smiled, pleased with House's actions. "So how does that concern me?"

"I came to tell you that you and I have no future together," House remarked.

"Brilliant. Let me go mourn now," Wilson retorted.

"I'm kidding. I was actually going to ask you to be my best man since we're going traditional with the whole ceremony thing."

"I'd love to."

House smiled, "All right, then it's set."

[H] [H] [H] [H] [H] [H]

Later that week, House and Cuddy began discussing the wedding plans over dinner.

"I don't want this to be a huge thing," Cuddy said. She was partly lying to herself; she'd always wanted the dream wedding. However, she wanted House to be comfortable and she accepted that a scaled down wedding wouldn't kill her.

"Good, neither do I."

But of course, Cuddy already knew that. She shrugged, "I figured we could do a small ceremony with Wilson, your team, my mom, my sister, and Rachel. How does that sound?"

"It works for me. I'm not a wedding expert, do whatever you want," House assured her.

"You don't want to help?"

"Cuddy," House began, "trust me when I say that you don't want me to help."

She thought it over once and realized that he was probably right. She couldn't even begin to imagine what he would come up with if the plans were left up to him. "Then I'll just surprise you," she said.

"You never cease to do that."

A few moments of silence passed before Cuddy asked, "Are you nervous?"

House tried to play it off, "No, it's just a wedding."

She quickly caught on to his little act. She knew he was just as nervous as she was, but he'd never admit to it. "But it's _our_ wedding," she prodded.

"Yes, and it's still a wedding. Look, I just don't get nervous over these things. That's your job," he said, trying to take himself out of the spotlight. "Are you having any second thoughts?"

Cuddy smiled confidently, "Not at all."

"Nervous?"

She shrugged, "A little. I'm more excited than anything."

House smirked, "Excited to become Mrs. House?"

That rendered Cuddy speechless. Her face flushed red as her reality finally hit her. She was marrying House. The same arrogant ass she'd dealt with for so many years. She could hardly believe it.

House noticed her 'deer in headlights' look and reassured her, "It's okay. You'll always be Cuddy to me."


	46. Chapter 46

**Hey you all! I'm so sorry for how long it's been since I've updated this story. My life got super hectic and I didn't have much time to devote to writing. Anyway, this is the FINAL CHAPTER! I didn't want to leave this story unfinished, so here it is! Thanks so much to everyone that read this story. I really appreciate it. I have a House/Cuddy oneshot saved that I wrote several months ago, so I'll upload that one soon. Once again, thank you for all the support with this story! Hope you enjoy the final chapter. Cheers!**

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><p>The ceremony was short and sweet, but it was everything Cuddy had ever dreamed of. The bride and groom were surrounded by family, close friends, and colleagues. Rachel played the role of the flower girl as perfectly as possible, and Wilson was honored to be House's best man. Most importantly, though, House and Cuddy both were absolutely sure that this was what they wanted.<p>

No one ever expected House and Cuddy to make it to this point in their relationship, but no one could ever deny that special spark between them. The two doctors had been dancing around their feelings for more years than anyone cared to count. The road had been the farthest thing from smooth, but it got them to where they are. When you truly care about someone, it shows. At some point, they had to decide to put their fears aside and realize that if they avoided their feelings much longer, someone else would come along and steal one of them away.

As soon as the vows were completed, the crowd scattered to a small reception before the newlyweds drove off to a nice downtown hotel.

That night, House and Cuddy sat on the couch in the main area of their hotel room, still dressed in their wedding clothes. They quietly sipped on glasses of wine before House broke the silence, "Well, the deed is done, Mrs. House."

Cuddy smiled, her face turning a nice shade of red, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"Neither do I. I think we did pretty good today. Nothing too showy, yet it was fairly traditional," he commented, pouring himself more wine.

"You do realize that this changes everything, right?" Cuddy asked, suddenly creating a serious atmosphere in the otherwise lighthearted room.

"In what way?"

"I have to legally change my last name, we have to decide what to do with your apartment, and you have to put up with me for the rest of your life," she explained. She had already put way too much thought into this.

House sighed, "As to the first change: you don't have to if you don't want to. Second, the apartment stays. I need somewhere to go when you start bitching at me for something I didn't do. Third, let's not forget that you also have to put up with me."

"I guess I could live with Dr. Lisa Cuddy-House, but that's definitely negotiable. And what happens if you start bitching at me?" She punched him in the arm, playfully. "And…we've dealt with each other for over twenty years…I think we can handle it."

"So not much really changes if you think about it. Unless…well, nothing really," he concluded.

"So we've just been trying to get to where we've always been?"

He smiled, "You could call it that."

Cuddy took one of his hands, "This won't be easy. Neither of us will always be able to get what we want."

He knew she was trying to be serious, and he was having none of that tonight. "And that's the beauty of it all. You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need." He held up his glass of wine, proud of his Rolling Stones reference, "A toast to many years of love, family, and mind blowing sex!"

Cuddy raised her glass too, "Cheers to all of the above."

They clinked their glasses together and drank the last of that bottle.

House turned to Cuddy, a mischievous grin on his face, "So now what?"

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><p><strong>THE END.<strong>


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